


some aces up your sleeve

by somethinglikegumption



Series: viva las vegas [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Las Vegas, that’s it, that’s the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15079238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethinglikegumption/pseuds/somethinglikegumption
Summary: In Las Vegas, the only things hotter than the summer days are the card tables on the Strip. High roller Jughead Jones lives for the heat, spending his days in board rooms and his nights at high stakes poker games, until the night a mystery girl takes the seat across from him. From that moment on, his luck starts to change in ways he may not be able to handle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a Vegas local, I feel like I'm morally obligated to write this fic.
> 
> Thanks to Addie ([beanie-betty](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com)) for being a wizard with commas and Sarah ([theheavycrown](http://theheavycrown.tumblr.com)) for being a cheerleader every step of the way, as well as everyone else who heard "Vegas AU" and jumped on board.
> 
> Come talk to me about this on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com), if you want.

It’s slowly coming back to him as the light seeps through the curtains he forgot to close last night. Piece by piece, he remembers - dinner at Hyde, followed by his favorite table at Omnia, and a bachelorette party joining them for the later part of the night. He peeks over to the other side of the bed and says a silent prayer of thanks that last night’s company is already gone. She was wild, but redheads aren’t really his style, especially not ones with talons for nails. In fact...

He rolls over and climbs out of bed, entering the walk-in closet with its full length mirror. An audible hiss leaves his lips as he takes in his back, completely covered in criss-crossing red lines from the girl’s nails. He rolls his eyes and heads for the shower, hoping some cool water will calm the distressed skin and clear his mind of the hangover he can already feel building in his temples.

A shower, a large glass of water, and three ibuprofen later, Jughead Jones is back, surveying his kingdom from his balcony high above the Strip. Down below, the Bellagio fountains are just beginning their morning performance to the joy of the tourists, appearing like thousands of tiny ants from his perspective. He’d spent too much money on the condo when the Cosmopolitan put them on the market, but it was worth it for the view alone.

The fountains finish their show as his ringtone echoes out onto the balcony, drawing him back inside to grab it off the charger. Sweet Pea’s photo fills the screen and Jughead accepts the call, a driving beat from some new DJ pounding through the tinny speaker of the phone.

“It’s not even 11 yet, Pea,” Jughead says over the music, and his best friend’s laugh echoes down the line.

“Toni says it’s the perfect time for mimosas, so get your ass over here!” Pea shouts into the phone. Jughead can hear Fangs and Toni in the background, singing along with the hook at the top of their lungs.

“Give me thirty minutes to change and grab some coffee,” he reluctantly agrees, and Sweet Pea cheers before saying a quick goodbye.

45 minutes later, Jughead pounds on the door of the penthouse suite his friends have rented at the Bellagio for the weekend. Fangs greets him at the door, a pair of wayfarers on and a bottle of Dom in each hand.

Jughead rolls his eyes and grabs one of the bottles, taking a healthy swig before following Fangs inside.

“And he rallies!” Fangs shouts to the sitting area, where Toni’s dancing on top of a coffee table and Sweet Pea is sprawled across one of the couches with his own bottle. Sweet Pea raises the champagne in salute as Toni jumps down, strutting over to Jughead to poke him in the chest with a sharp fingernail.

“Fuck you, Juggie. I was totally gonna pull with that redhead last night until you swooped in,” she says, snatching the bottle from his hand.

“If I’d known she was going to claw a map onto my back, I’d have let you have her,” he says, following her to the bar where she picks up a champagne flute to pour herself a glass, before thinking better of it and grabbing for the vodka. “At least she was gone when I got up. You know how I hate it when they make a big deal out of the condo.”

“Boo hoo, chicks love my million dollar view, my life is so hard,” Sweet Pea calls from the couch, and Jughead flips him the bird.

“You know you could have stayed with me for the weekend if you didn’t want to drive in every night. You didn’t need to get a room,” Jughead reminds them, but Fangs brushes him off.

“Don’t worry about it, man. We got it comped after the weekend Toni lost twenty thousand on blackjack in one night,” Fangs tells him, ducking as Toni swings her arm out to slap him.

“Oh my god, it was one time! And I won it all back at roulette the next weekend. Let it go, Fogarty,” she says, tossing an ice cube from her freshly made drink at him. “But really Jug, none of us want to be in your condo when you have a girl there.” She lowers her voice. “Marble floors echo, you know.”

Jughead doesn’t normally get embarrassed, but he can feel his cheeks warming at Toni’s implication. “No female guests when I have house guests. Got it.”

Fangs lets out a laugh at Jughead’s red face. “Don’t get mad. Topaz is just bitter. We all saw that redhead, she looked wild,” he says, eyeing Toni, who’s moved on to pouring shots of Grey Goose.

“Do we really have to spend this entire weekend talking about Jones’ sex life?” Toni sighs, putting the bottle down and lining up the shots on the bar. “Straight people problems are much more enjoyable when I watch them on Netflix shows in the comfort of my apartment. I didn’t need to come down to the Strip for that.”

“Agreed. Are we gonna fuck around or rage?” Pea says, jumping up from the couch to join them around the bar. “It’s the first weekend of Vegas summer, the pool’s got girls in bikinis -” he glances down at Toni and they exchange a smirk “ - and I think we all know that’s better than hanging out in here.”

“Hell yeah!” Fangs cheers, raising his glass, while the rest follow suit. They clink their glasses in a toast before throwing back their shots.

Their usual cabana is waiting for them when they arrive by the pool, close enough to the water to take in the view, but far enough away that random guests don’t try to stop in for a chat. Jughead claims one of the pool chairs and throws himself down, taking the drink the host prepares for him and gulping down a sip.

“Really, Toni? Vodka sodas?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and looking over his sunglasses at her.

“I’m not letting you get wasted when you have to make it to the fight tonight. You’d be passed out in three hours,” she mocks, and lays out in the chair next to him. “Anyone interesting around?”

Jughead scans the pool deck, taking in the usual suspects; college kids in for the long Memorial Day weekend, couples on romantic getaways, the odd family on vacation. Same people, different day, with one exception.

The woman stands out against the pale greens and whites of the cabana surrounding her, her golden skin in a black bikini catching his eye, even from across the pool. A blonde mane hangs over the back of her chair, and he immediately wants to run his fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. She’s alone, but a quick glance around reveals that plenty of eyes have noticed her, including Toni’s.

In one fluid movement, he stands, grabs his shirt collar, pulls it over his head, and tosses it to the side. “Sorry to interrupt your viewing session, but I’m calling this one,” he remarks.

Toni waves a hand dismissively and takes another sip of her drink. “Plenty of fish in the sea and all that jazz. Fifty bucks says you crash and burn.”

“I’ll take that bet. Jones has more game than you give him credit for,” Pea claims with a goading grin in his friend’s direction.

Jughead playfully salutes him before picking up his own drink and starting toward the blonde’s cabana.

She’s spread out on one of the recliners at the front of the empty cabana, and a man dressed in the hotel’s uniform stands nearby. A sour look crosses the attendant’s face, but Jughead moves quickly and takes the other recliner before he can send him away.

“Come here often?” he asks, immediately mentally chastising himself for using such a juvenile line.

Her fingers delicately grasp the arm of her large sunglasses and lower them the slightest bit, just enough that he can see the curve of an arched eyebrow.

“You came all the way over here and that was really the best you could do?” she teases.

“I was overwhelmed by how beautiful you were up close, I had a whole speech prepared,” he flirts back, and poses a bit as she scans him with her shaded eyes, from his perfectly messy black hair to his defined chest, all the way down to the dark trail of hair disappearing into navy blue swim trunks. He works hard to look good, and he’s not above flaunting it for this girl.

He’s caught out quickly as the eyebrow raises even further. “Did you come over here for a reason, or did you just want to show off?”

“Any reason would be a good reason to talk to you,” he says with a smile, “but now that you mention it - my friends and I have a cabana across the pool. Would you want to join us?” He gestures in the direction of the group, who all hastily look occupied once he turns to glance at them.

Her eyes follow his, and she taps her finger on her bottom lip, thinking for a moment before smiling with a shake of her head. “I’m fine here, thanks. It looks a little crowded over there.”

He clutches at his chest over his heart in mock hurt. “If I’m to be denied your company, I’ll just have to sustain myself by admiring your beauty from afar, fair Juliet.”

She chuckles, pulling off the sunglasses and lifting up from her seat. “Not for long,” she murmurs, her hand coming up to rest on his chest where his had been the moment before. He’s so distracted by the light touch that he doesn’t notice her other hand relieve him of his drink until her pink lips are wrapping around the straw. She takes a quick sip and releases the straw to bite her lip.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a vodka guy. You look like more of a whiskey man,” she tells him, and an unwelcome memory flashes in his mind before he pushes it away for another cocky grin.

“I know a place with a great selection, if you’re interested,” he tries again as she hands him back the drink.

She flips her blonde hair over a tanned shoulder and bends over to collect her things. Jughead lets out a low groan at the sight of her ass, the bikini bottoms accentuating its peach shape, perfectly formed for his hands. His jaw tightens to keep another comment from slipping out, and just as he’s about to lose control, she straightens with a phone and a room key in her hand.

“Prior engagement, sorry,” she says as she slips on her shoes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other soon though.” With that, she passes her fingers lightly over his chest and tosses him a wink, leaving him standing there like an idiot as she walks away and out the door.

He’s still trying to process what just happened when his ears fill with the sound of the gang catcalling and hollering behind him. Toni’s the loudest, her voice echoing across the paved pool deck as she tells Sweet Pea he owes her fifty bucks.

As he rejoins them and takes their taunts in his stride, he waves over their host under the guise of getting another drink. With the prime location of that cabana, the blonde was most likely a high roller, meaning the hosts would know exactly who she was.

The man anticipates Jughead’s silent question, and he shakes his head with a sorry smile. “I haven’t seen her before Mr. Jones, I apologize.”

“Can you figure out who rented that cabana today?” Jughead asks lowly, not wanting the others to catch on, and the host nods before preparing another drink. Jughead stays in place as the man goes to the main bar, checking through a clipboard before coming back to the tent.

“It looks like Miss Lodge frequently requests that specific location, she booked it for the day,” the host whispers to Jughead, who rolls his eyes in response. Of course, it had to be Veronica Lodge.

He and Veronica aren’t exactly friends; rather, more like business enemies that happen to be polite to each other on occasion. Veronica hangs on to her father’s businesses while Jughead builds his investments up on his own. Her reach is farther, dabbling in hotels and casinos, while he focuses mostly on clubs and restaurants, but lately she’s been trying to work her way into his markets.

 _Forget her_ , he tells himself, figuring the blonde is a friend of Veronica’s. _Any girl who’s friends with Veronica Lodge is not a girl you should be interested in. If she’s anything like Veronica, she’ll only screw you over._

The pop of a champagne cork catches his attention and draws him from his thoughts. Sweet Pea presses a cool glass into his hand, and they gather in the shade as the host pours the bubbly into the flutes.

“What are we toasting?” Toni asks.

Pea thinks for a moment, before getting an evil look in his eye. “To this weekend. May we have better luck than Jughead just did, and may he drink enough to forget it ever happened!” He roars in laughter, and Fangs and Toni join in before raising their glasses. Lifting the champagne glass to his lips, Jughead flips off the other three, downs the drink and gets started on another, hoping to wipe his memory of the last fifteen minutes.

A few hours later, Jughead is halfway between drunk and hungover. He drops Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea off at their suite before making his way back to his condo. He’d begged off of the fight, not in the mood for mingling after the earlier brush off and subsequent drinking, telling them he’d meet up with them for clubbing later.

After a quick shower, a change of clothes, and three texts asking if he was sure he wanted to miss the fight, Jughead steps into the elevator, freshly dressed in a suit, tie, and his favorite suspenders. His dinner reservation is for one of his newer restaurants at the Aria, a short walk away, and the heat’s bearing down as he steps out of the building, even though the sun is already setting.

Moving quickly through the crowds caught up in the neon lights, he glances down at his watch before speeding up to bypass some gawkers, realizing he may be able to get in a few hands before he’s seated.

Jughead doesn’t play in the casinos much, preferring to gamble on new investments, but every so often he likes to step into the high roller room and have his every need attended to while taking some rich businessmen for all they’re worth.

No casino does high stakes better than the Aria, the new property catering to the high class visitors that come to Vegas for an experience. Even having walked through the hotel multiple times, he still gets distracted by the glimmering walls and bouncing lights decorating the casino floor.

Catching sight of his destination over the heads of the group in front of him, he steps around a slot machine and nods at the man at the door, who gestures him in with a hand. The high limits lounge is only a floor down from the restaurant, so he positions himself at a table near the front of the room for a speedy exit and throws down a few hundred dollar bills, which are quickly exchanged for chips.

He doesn’t recognize the two men or the woman at the table with him, but it’s no matter. As he picks up one of the chips from the top of the neat pile in front of him, he scans his fellow players, looking for jumpy eyes, twitching fingers, and heavy breathing. He learned from the best, and it serves him well at these tables.

Tossing down the chip, the other players follow suit, and Jughead watches as the dealer turns over another card. He picks up another chip, the green plastic flipping through his fingers as he contemplates his next move and catches the eye of the man to his left.

It’s a moment of tension, before Jughead adds the chip to the pile, looking the other man dead in the eye. A quick breath, and the man is tossing his cards to the middle of the table. Fold.

After two hands, Jughead peeks at his watch and realizes it’s time to move. Taking the chips he’d collected from the other players, he tips the dealer and cashes out.

His hand is in his pocket, pulling out his phone, and he’s glancing down to check the photos Sweet Pea sent from the fight when a familiar voice floats over.

“Leaving so soon?” it calls, as he turns to his right and sees her.

The blonde from before has changed, but she still looks as amazing as she did at the pool. A tight green sequined dress encases her body, low cut and short, drawing the eye of everyone in a ten-foot radius. The dip in the front calls attention to the hollow between her breasts, where a flawless diamond pendant is resting.

“If I’d known I would see you again, I would have waited forever,” he vows, taking her hand in his. “We weren’t properly introduced before.”

“I guess we should fix that,” she teases. “Betty Cooper, and you are?”

“Jughead, Jughead Jones.” He sees the question in her eyes and rushes to cut it off. “An old holdover from middle school, but better than the alternative.”

“Well, Jughead,” she emphasizes, before glancing at the high stakes tables. “Care to play? I’m a little rusty, but I’m ready to get back in there.”

“Or we could do something more pleasant with our time than lose money at the tables,” Jughead says, placing a hand at the small of her back and gently leading her towards the escalators. “I have a reservation for dinner, if you would like to join me.”

She casts a hesitant glance over her shoulder, and he sees the longing look in her eyes before jumping in to convince her.

“They’ll be there in an hour,” he promises, thumb reaching up to rub circles on the bare skin of her back that her dress has left uncovered.

She sighs and nods her head, letting him lead the way. “I’m counting on you for a good time then, Jughead Jones.”

They ride the escalator up to the second floor and he offers her his arm at the top, which she accepts with a slight giggle and a tiny smirk. Directing her to the restaurant, he gives his name to the hostess, who instantly greets him and leads them past the groups standing in the entry to a small table tucked away in the corner.

“Great service in here,” Betty comments as he pulls the chair out for her.

“I hate to say it, but I’m kind of a big deal,” he jokes with a twitch of his lips that has her raising an eyebrow. He rubs the back of his neck, lowering his voice as he speaks. “I might have invested in the restaurant.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she seems to take it in stride, exactly like he expected she would. If she is friends with Veronica, she’s probably used to it.

“Well, my congratulations on a successful venture, Jughead.” She smiles, and picks up her menu, her hair falling in her face as she peruses the options.

“I always win,” he says teasingly, and she glances up through that curtain of hair. His heart stutters at Betty’s green eyes, looking straight through his own. He quickly fixes his eyes down on his own menu to keep from staring. His hands clench around the leather-bound book, holding himself back from reaching out to push the stray lock of hair out of her eyes and feel the softness of her skin with his thumb.

He’s saved by the server coming to offer them the specials and a wine list, from which he quickly chooses a random bottle of cabernet sauvignon with a short glance at Betty for confirmation. The server promises to be right back with the sommelier and whisks away again.

“So,” she says after a moment, closing the menu and setting it down on the table with a decisive thud. “Is this the only place you’ve invested in?”

“The fifth that I’ve still got money in,” Jughead tells her, making a note of something to order before closing his menu. “A few were short-term, just to get started, but other than this I have stakes in Jewel, Omnia, Giada, and Le Cirque.”

“You must be very comfortable then,” she hints. He reaches up to run his fingers through his hair, a nervous tic that he still hasn’t quite managed to lose, much to the delight of his friends when they play poker together.

“Just the right place, right time,” Jughead says, brushing off her words. “What about you, what brings you to the city of sin?” he asks, steering the conversation into safer waters.

“Hospitality for major players,” Betty says, waving a hand in the air. “You know, getting the show tickets that are sold out, booking the villas when they lose, the usual.”

“You might know my friends,” he says, before lowering his voice, “they lose a lot.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle and she tries to hold in her giggles as the sommelier arrives with their wine. He pours a glass for Jughead, who tastes it and nods before taking the bottle and sending him off. Jughead reaches over and, under the pretense of pouring her wine, scoots his chair a little closer to hers.

“Was that your prior engagement? Working?” he asks, setting the bottle down and picking up his glass.

“Yes, but…” she trails off, grabbing her own glass and leaning in. “You’re so much more interesting.” With that, she taps his glass with hers and takes a long sip.

He takes a drink from his own glass before setting it down and bringing his hand to rest on her knee, just below the hem of her short dress. “I’m glad I could convince you to come.”

She glances down and her eyes shadow briefly, before the darkness passes and they brighten again. “I’m glad you could make room for little old me. I’m sure you have your choice of dinner dates,” she says, taking another sip.

Jughead huffs out a laugh. “None that I like enough to sit through a four course meal with.”

“Let’s hope I’m a little more entertaining,” Betty says as the server returns to take their orders.

He can hardly remember what they talk about over the next two hours, but he can remember the most incredible meal of his life, made amazing by her mere presence. Her eyes linger on his lips as he takes the bite of pasta she offers him, and her laughter echoes when he leans over to whisper observations about the diners sitting nearby. Her lips have turned slightly red from the bottle of wine they’ve been sharing, leaving Jughead wondering if they would turn the same color after some attention from his own.

When she tosses that blonde hair over her shoulder, he can feel the eyes of others on them, but he’s focused on the long column of her neck, now uncovered by her hair.

He can’t keep his eyes off of her, and she knows it.

As they sit finishing the last of the bottle, she peeks up at him through her lashes, a laugh breaking out at what must be a starstruck look on his face.

“Something on my face?” she asks, and he shakes his head to clear the haze she’s caused.

“No, just wondering if you know what you’re getting into, going up against me at the tables,” he brags, leaning back in his seat and waving his hand to the server, who returns quickly with the bill.

She rests her chin on her hand, and drums her fingers against her cheek in what looks like contemplation. “I’m sure you’ll remind me how to play before it gets too bad,” she teases him.

Signing off on the check, he stands and offers her his hand. “Shall we, then?”

Betty lets him pull her up and out of the restaurant, his hand keeping a tight hold on hers the entire way.

They re-enter the high limits lounge to find it fuller than before, more high rollers coming out for a night of drinking and gambling. A table near the back of the room has only one player, and Jughead beelines towards it, pulling Betty along with him.

He lets go of her hand to pull out a chair but she backs away, shaking her head. “I don’t want you sneaking peeks at my cards,” she murmurs, smirking, before lowering her voice to speak directly into his ear. “Plus, I think you’ll distract me sitting so close.” With that, she moves around to the other side of the table and slides into one of the low chairs.

Jughead stares after her a moment, then barks out a laugh. He takes the seat directly across from her and pulls out his wallet, eyes on her teasing grin the entire time.

She looks a little tipsy from the wine, her eyes bright and her upper body swaying to the low music piped into the room. Her eyes keep coming back to his hands, so he makes sure to play up the movements, taking more time to look at his cards, drumming his fingertips on the table, counting and recounting his chips.

Her throat bobs, eyes still locked on his fingers, and he smiles internally. She had the upper hand in the restaurant, but he’s in his element at the poker tables.

They spend the first hand exchanging glances across the table, paying more attention to each other than to their cards. Neither of them win, the man sitting between the two of them laying down a straight, but he soon picks up his winnings and goes, leaving Betty and Jughead alone at the table.

A word to the nearby host ensures the table will stay private, and the dealer distributes another hand. Jughead takes a short look at his cards, deciding they’re good enough to stay in before tossing in a few chips. Betty follows his lead, and they play through a round before the dealer calls Jughead’s hand the winner.

More hands follow as a cocktail server makes her rounds, and Betty sips on a vodka cranberry while he nurses a glass of scotch. He knows better than to play and drink at the same time, but he’s already breaking his own rules against playing while distracted, so he figures one more broken rule can’t do much harm.

Besides, he’s up by three hands, and Betty is bleeding chips pretty quickly. He doesn’t have much to worry about.

He relaxes at the knowledge and lets himself take a breath as the dealer sweeps up another round’s cards, pushing the chips in the middle of the table towards Jughead before dealing another hand.

Betty lifts her cards for a short glance, and Jughead starts to follow her gaze down to the cards before getting sidetracked at the gleaming necklace.

He watches that jewel dangling, the fingers of her left hand toying with the chain and making the diamond catch the light. They move up the chain and towards her neck, pushing tendrils of blonde hair away from her face, behind her ear to reveal the curve of her jaw.

It’s more than a little distracting, and he makes a bad choice. He should have folded, but his mind is twisted around and he plays a hand he shouldn’t.

The look of excitement on Betty’s face is almost enough to make the losing worthwhile.

She doesn’t even try to contain her joy, clapping her hands in glee as she scoops her earnings towards her. She stacks them up into a pile and wiggles her eyebrows at him, daring him to try and win the money back.

Jughead just shakes his head and orders another drink.

It seems to be the beginning of a hot streak, Betty rapidly gaining ground on his lead with each passing game. As her pile of chips grows and his shrinks, he starts to suspect that something may be off here.

She grows more focused, more serious, avoiding his eyes when a few minutes before, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes are locked on her cards or the pot, and the smiles she had been saving for him are now limited to small grins with each winning hand. As he bets the last of his chips and the dealer calls Betty’s four queens as the winner over his three kings, he glances at her, and sees a knowing glint in her eye that wasn’t there before.

She collects her winnings, sliding a small stack of chips to the dealer in thanks, and moves to leave. She’s just crossed the threshold to the high limits room when he catches up with her, gently pulling her to the side.

“You’re a little better than you let on,” he says, his jaw tightening as the corner of her mouth twitches up into a half smirk.

“More than a little,” she tells him with a snide smile, and shakes her arm free. “Thanks for dinner. Veronica was right, you do go after what you want.”

“Veronica?” he questions, and he starts to realize -

“She said to tell you this is for the Venetian property.”

He had known she was going to screw him over.

In a flash of blonde hair, she turns on her heel and strolls down the hall and out of sight, leaving his wallet thousands of dollars lighter and his heart a little bit heavier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, massive thank you to [beanie-betty](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com) for fixing the many times I lapsed into AP style during the writing of this chapter.
> 
> Come talk to me about this on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com).
> 
> Please please _please_ consider leaving a comment if you liked it!

The mansion owned by the Lodge family is beautiful, nestled in the red rocks twenty minutes west of the Strip and offering 360 degree views of the entire valley.

Veronica had not-so-subtly ordered her to arrive for brunch and a mission debrief at 10am, so Betty parks her modest sedan in the driveway behind a blacked-out Mercedes at 9:50 sharp and walks up to the front door to ring the doorbell.

“Betty! Welcome to Casa de Lodge,” Veronica says as the door swings open, an older man hovering at her shoulder.

She smiles, following Veronica in with a questioning glance at the man who closes and locks the door behind them. Veronica doesn’t even notice, striding through the foyer out to a perfectly-positioned table just outside the doors to the pool, far enough outside to enjoy the morning but close enough to the air conditioning that they wouldn’t overheat.

“Who was that?” Betty asks, taking the seat Veronica offers as she picks up the champagne flute in front of her, already filled with a mimosa.

Veronica throws a glance over her shoulder to the kitchen where the man is now plating fruit. “Oh, that’s Smithers. Mother insists on having someone around to help her with the day-to-day tasks.”

Betty rolls her eyes at the comment. Hermione Lodge had a minor role in the Lodge family’s foundation, but nothing so stressful that she would even need someone to help her. The life of the rich, she figures.

Leaning in, Veronica takes her own glass and starts peppering Betty with questions. “So, how did it go? Was he devastated? How much did you take him for-”

“Hold on a second,” Betty tells her laughingly, sipping her mimosa before settling in for a lengthy retelling of the night before.

Veronica is enraptured as Betty tells her of the pool encounter, their first meeting at the tables, the dinner conversation, and the final blow of taking over $5,000 from Jughead. Her excitement only grows when Betty describes the look on his face, going from sadness, to realization, to anger as she walked away and left him reeling.

“Job well done, Betty Cooper,” Veronica praises as Smithers delivers two omelettes with sides of fruit to the table. Picking up her utensils, Betty digs in, taking advantage of the free meal Veronica offers.

“I almost felt bad for him,” Betty states before letting out a tiny moan at the perfectly-cooked eggs. “He looked like someone had kicked his puppy.”

Veronica blows it off, dismissing Jughead’s feelings with a wave of her hand. “He deserved it. Speaking of deserving…” she picks up the envelope sitting next to her plate and hands it to Betty. “Before I forget.”

Betty takes the envelope and peeks inside. Glancing at the check and the amount, she does some quick calculations in her head. With this money plus the winnings from Jughead, she should be able to pay off enough to keep the sharks at bay for a little while longer. She tucks the check inside her purse and goes back to eating, engaging Veronica in a conversation about the house.

Three mimosas later, Betty’s about to head out when Veronica stops her with a hand on her arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Veronica teases, grabbing Betty’s hand to pull her down a side hallway. “There’s a lot planned this weekend because of the fight and you’re coming out with me. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“I’m supposed to be working this weekend,” Betty says, hesitating. “I don’t know if I can.”

Veronica wiggles her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Working, right. Like mixing and mingling with Vegas royalty and taking their money away is such a chore.”

Betty thinks through the two lists in her head. Lodge high rollers for her day job on one, and the whales in town for her...less than legal activities on the other.

Realizing there’s no one that could cause her major trouble, she promises herself she won’t drink too much, and tentatively nods her head. “I suppose I could swing one night off.”

“Excellent,” Veronica says, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

She directs Betty to a small room serving as a pool house and a stash of swimsuits to borrow, and Betty quickly changes before rejoining her outside. They spend the rest of the morning and the afternoon drinking by the pool, every need being attended to by Smithers, who stands nearby keeping a watchful eye on them.

Betty’s just a bit tipsy when the sun changes its angle and the lights of the hotels in the distance flicker on in the early evening light. Veronica checks her phone and exclaims over the time.

“Inside, Betty! We’ve got a lot to do and only a little time to do it in,” Veronica says as she shuffles Betty down another hallway into a large bedroom. Betty stops in awe at the high ceilings, the beautiful decor, and the many, many pieces of clothing spread out on every empty surface.

“What is this?” Betty asks, picking up a tank top covered in beads and sequins, which Veronica snatches out of her hand.

“Not appropriate for a night club, is what it is,” Veronica says firmly.

Veronica tosses the top back onto the bed and opens a door on the far wall, revealing a large walk-in closet. She waves Betty over as she starts flipping through plastic-covered dresses hanging up above a rack of shoes.

“I bought some of these for you to wear on your ‘date’ with Jughead. I wanted you to have some options,” Veronica explains, pulling down a few of the bags and leading a bewildered Betty back out into the main bedroom.

“I’m not so sure about this,” Betty murmurs. “I don’t feel right taking all of this. It’s a job, Veronica, you already paid me for it.”

Veronica again waves her off, pushing a pile off the bed and laying the dresses out for Betty to view. “It’s a business expense. We can’t have one of the public faces of Lodge in anything less than the very best, can we?”

“At least let me pay for -” Betty starts before Veronica tuts loudly.

“Nope, this is all on me. You just get to put one on and look pretty,” Veronica says decisively, picking up one of the bags and pushing it into Betty’s arms. “Now, go try it.”

Betty pauses for a moment, then shakes her head with a grin before following her instructions. In the closet, she opens up the bag, immediately wrinkling her nose at the pastel pink color of the dress.

“You’re not allowed out without showing me!” Veronica’s voice echoes through the door, and Betty huffs before starting to change.

“What are we doing tonight that I need a fancy dress?” Betty asks.

“We’ve got a table at Jewel tonight, one of the balcony ones. Should be great for people watching,” Veronica says as Betty does up the zipper on the dress before coming out to show her. Veronica takes one look and points her back into the closet, handing her another bag that she takes willingly.

This dress is black, strapless, relatively safe when she first pulls it out of the bag, but as the long skirt slides out from the plastic, she realizes the whole bottom is made of one thin piece of tulle, only a black bodysuit covering her from the top of her chest to the very tops of her thighs.

“Jughead might be there,” Veronica blurts out. Betty freezes.

“W-what?” she stutters out, the mirror on the back of the closet door showing her just how fast the color has bled from her face.

Veronica’s silent, and Betty quickly slides into the dress, shuddering at all the skin on display before gritting her teeth and stepping out into the room. Veronica sits on the edge of the bed, another dress bag in her hands, but Betty holds up a hand to stop her.

“What did you just say?” Betty demands more than asks. Veronica looks uneasy before launching into a speedy explanation.

“Well, it’s his club, so he likes to keep an eye on it, but we can’t go anywhere else! It’s the best party in town, and we have to go. Besides, he probably won’t even be there, he’s got the entire Strip full of clubs he could go to,” Veronica rambles on, barely drawing a breath in the whole time she’s speaking. “That dress is fantastic, by the way?” she adds, trying to derail Betty’s response before it even begins.

“I just don’t get why you even want to go to his club. I mean,” Betty pauses, collecting her thoughts before softening her tone, “You paid me a ton of money to go mess with him not even 24 hours ago.”

Veronica gets up, turning Betty towards the mirror to do up her zipper.

“Jughead and I are rivals, yes, but it’s more of a love-hate thing. He’s fun to hang out with, and he’s a good friend, but he always seems to have a leg up on finding and getting the next big thing,” Veronica explains, turning back to the bed to rummage through a pile of jewelry. “He’s more careful with his investments, so I know when he’s interested, that place is going to be a success.”

“Why would he be careful? I would think a gambler like him would take more risks,” Betty asks.

Veronica hands her a pair of earrings, then comes to stand behind her and clasps a necklace around her neck. Slowly, she starts to speak. “Jughead’s not...like me. He’s had to work harder than anyone I know to get where he is.”

“What does that even mean?” Betty scoffs, inserting the diamond studs into her earlobes.

“It’s not really my story to tell,” Veronica hesitates, “But all I can say is he doesn’t want to lose money on bad ideas. He’s comfortable where he is.”

“So you, what, wanted me to mess with his mind? Throw him off his game?” Betty asks, turning away from the mirror to look Veronica in the eyes.

The corner of her mouth turns down into a frown for a moment. “We’ve been trading bids on this restaurant at the Venetian for months now. I don’t know how he did it, but the seller was just about to accept my offer when I get a call that they’d already sold it.” Veronica then huffs out a laugh. “Lucky for me that I found you at the tables, and blondes with killer legs are exactly his type. So I planned a little revenge.”

Betty rolls her eyes and looks back into the mirror, smoothing down the skirt and contemplating the full outfit. She’s about to pick up the next dress bag when Veronica stops her.

“At heart, we’re like siblings. We fight like cats and dogs, but I’ll always have his back and he’ll always have mine,” Veronica says, taking the other dress from her and picking up a shoe box instead. “And I know, as his friend, if he sees you in that he’ll lose his shit. You’re so wearing that one.”

Betty laughs and twirls in front of the mirror, the sequined design at the end of the tulle holding down the fabric and catching the light. She actually looks like she belongs here, in a fancy house, with Veronica Lodge as a friend and a handsome high roller hanging on to her every word. “Yes, I think I will wear this one,” Betty says, a soft smile settling onto her face.

After too many makeup products and a sushi dinner lovingly prepared by Smithers, Veronica calls a car service for the ride to the Strip.

As they step into the casino, Betty can feel the room closing in. Too many memories from only one night have already filled her mind. Veronica strides past the restaurant they had shared their romantic meal at, while Betty’s cheeks flush at the thought of Jughead’s voice in her ear and his warm hand on her thigh.

Veronica is on a mission though, pulling them quickly through the casino floor. Betty lets herself be led away from the restaurant, away from the mental image of Jughead’s face as she left him behind.

The line is insane when they get to the front of the club, but Veronica Lodge waits for no one. She bypasses the lines of partygoers, her eyes searching for something. Betty hears her let out an audible “A-ha!” before pulling her to a black velvet rope and an intimidating man in a black suit, who takes one look at Veronica and immediately springs into action.

Less than five minutes later, a well-dressed hostess leads them to their table, already prepared with Veronica’s favorite champagne on ice. She leaves them with a smile and another woman takes her place, bringing over mixers and a bottle of vodka.

The server pours Betty and Veronica glasses of champagne, and they barely have time to take a sip before a large group of people converges on their table.

Betty just sits quietly, sipping on her champagne as Veronica greets the new arrivals with air kisses and hugs. Apparently they’re friends of Veronica’s, or at least that’s what she thinks they are. Each one is wearing an outfit that looks like it cost more than a year’s rent in her small apartment, although looking down at herself, she realizes hers does too.

Veronica notices her sitting down and shouts over the bass pounding through the speakers. “This is Betty! My new friend!” she yells, and the rest of the group introduces themselves with handshakes or quick waves.

“Shots!” Veronica cheers as Betty meets the last one, a blonde named Katie who looks to be wearing Betty’s college tuition in Cartier Love bracelets. The girls are quick to pick up the cheer, while Betty finds herself holding a shot glass full of something violently pink.

It goes down easy, loosening her shoulders a bit, still tense from the expectation of seeing Jughead’s face around every corner.

Veronica makes another drink for herself, having downed the glass of champagne in one gulp. “No moping today!” she says into Betty’s ear over the music, and Betty graces her with a brief smile before turning back to her drink.

“No no no. Time to lighten up, Betty!” Veronica tells her, standing up and grabbing for her hand. “Let’s go dance!”

Betty looks around the group clustered at the table, almost expecting someone to stop them, but they’ve already moved on to the next round of shots. Letting out a sigh, she lets Veronica lead the way yet again.

They work their way to the middle of the sweaty crowd on the dance floor, positioning themselves almost directly in front of the DJ booth. Veronica locks their fingers and lifts their arms, and Betty lets her, feeling the rhythm as she moves her hips side to side.

Veronica pulls her closer for a moment, grinding her hips into Betty’s and trying to be sexy before they burst into laughter. That minute seems to be the turning point, as Betty finally embraces the beat to dance with Veronica and join the crowd jumping up and down when the DJ plays an EDM song.

Veronica is pulled away a few minutes later by a tall blonde man, and Betty waves off her look of concern to keep dancing. She doesn’t know much of the music they’re playing, but she recognizes this one, a sultry beat that she sometimes hears over her car radio on the ride to work.

She lets her hips rock with the song, feeling the vibration of the floor through the soles of her shoes. Her arms slide up over her head, eyes closing at the feeling, letting the music take over.

A hard chest presses against her back. She’s about to turn to push him away when large hands come to rest on her hips. They fist at the tulle of her skirt, just above her skin, and she can feel his warm breath on her neck. Even in the loud club, his whisper sends shivers down her spine.

“After embarrassing me like that last night, the least you can do is let me dance with you.”

Jughead pulls her hips flush against his, pressing his hardness against her ass as she leans back to rest her head against his shoulder. Her hands grab onto his where they are still placed on her hips, and they move together, her body swaying with the song as his lips press against her bare shoulder.

He lifts his head to meet her eyes with a smirk, taking in the hooded gaze and her parted lips. “Is there something you want, Betty?”

The alcohol opens her thoughts and her mouth, and she says the one thing she shouldn’t - _can’t_ say.

“You.”

He doesn’t give her time to take it back, grabbing her hand to navigate through the crowd to the stairs at the back of the cavernous room. Climbing the stairs and locating a door marked an Employees Only sign, he pushes it open, bringing her with him. Her eyes are hazy, trying to adjust to the bright light of the hallway from the darkness of the club, but suddenly the light disappears again as they stumble into what looks like an office.

Instantly his lips are on hers, the brute force taking her by surprise. Her hands fist in the lapels of his black suit coat, pulling him closer with every bit of strength she has. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifts her up in the air and she lets out a quick squeal at the unexpected movement before his mouth swallows her sound.

Her legs wrap around his waist as he moves them to a wall, cold against her back. She shivers with the combined feeling of the chill and his lips moving to suck at her pulse point.

“ _Jughead_ ,” she moans as he somehow hardens further, pressed up against her heat through the thin layers of the bodysuit and skirt.

Too quickly for her to comprehend, she’s spun around to face the wall. She realizes it’s a window as her cheek presses into the glass, looking out over the dance floor and writhing crowds below.

“It’s a two-way mirror,” he’s quick to reassure her, “Only I get to see you like this.” With that, he leans down to bunch up the bottom of her skirt, pulling it to her waist.

Panting, Betty turns her head as far to the side as it will go, trying to bring his mouth back to hers. “Jughead,” she groans, “stop teasing me.”

His lips capture hers as his fingers dive under the skirt to the fabric covering her pussy. He slips one finger under the material, and she bites his lip as it slides up to pass over her clit.

“Every time I come in here, I’ll imagine you, standing here, just waiting for me to touch you,” he murmurs, pulling his face from hers to whisper into her ear. “I’ll stand in this exact spot and picture you bent over, only a thin piece of glass away from showing this whole club how much you crave my cock.”

She lowers her forehead to rest against the glass as he rubs her clit once, then twice, almost shedding a tear in need when he draws his finger out of the dress.

His lips descend to lick and suck at her pulse point. She clenches her lip between her teeth to block the moan trying to force its way out, closing her eyes at the feeling. When she opens them with the sensation of his mouth nipping at her neck, movement out in the main club catches her eye.

It’s a single flash of light, a spotlight catching on a sequined dress on the dance floor, but it’s enough to remind her of Veronica out there dancing and the reason Betty’s even there.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she realizes. She’s there with Veronica, he’s probably still angry with her for last night, and she doesn’t go around sleeping with people she’s known for one night, not even beautiful well-dressed men with dark expressive eyes.

She pushes past him, the sound of his voice calling after her lost in the slamming of the door as she continues down the bright hallway back into the crowded room below. Making her way back to the table, she finds that most of the group has migrated to the dance floor, leaving her alone with the half-full bottle of vodka and a few clutch bags.

Betty mixes a drink and downs it in one go, rinsing away the taste of Jughead Jones.

The server rushes over, murmuring apologies for her absence and offering a new full bottle of champagne, popping the cork to pour her another glass. Betty takes it gratefully, sipping it a little slower than the first drink. Her eyes wander around the room as she looks for Veronica, but she keeps glancing back to the mirror on the far wall.

He could still be up there looking down at her, or he could already have left the club. His eyes pierce her thoughts and she shakes herself free of the memory, forcing herself to think of her job, the borrowed dress she’s wearing, the check burning a hole in her bag, all graciously provided by the kindness of Veronica Lodge with the understanding that they were united against the same man who had his hand in her dress just minutes before.

Wherever he was, she couldn’t betray Veronica, especially when Veronica had already done so much for her.

So she finishes another drink, then one more, talking to everyone that comes up to the table, checking her phone, anything to keep her from giving in and running back to the office to find him.

Most of the girls have already stopped by to say their goodbyes and grab their things when Veronica manages to make her way back to the table to plop down on one of the couches, sliding off her shoes and pulling a rubber band out of her purse to tie back her hair and fan her sweaty face. The server sees her return, and swoops in with a black billfold. Veronica’s opening the bill, credit card already in hand, but she stops as a smile crosses her face.

“I think it’s for you,” she says, passing it to Betty. She takes it with a question in her eyes, but Veronica holds her hand up to stop her, grabbing one of the bottles of water still chilling in an ice bucket on the table.

Betty opens the folder to find the receipt already paid with a generous tip. Along with the receipt is a white business card, emblazoned with the name Jughead Jones.

She pulls the card out, flipping it over to see bold black strokes filling the white cardstock.

_I hope you’ll give me the chance to win my money back and see you again._

Blushing, she slips the card into her clutch as Veronica finishes her water and briefly rubs her feet before putting her heels back on.

“So what did he say?” Veronica teases, laughing while Betty ducks her head to try and hide the little smile she shouldn’t have on her face.

“Just that he wants to see me again,” Betty says. Veronica squeals in excitement before calming herself.

“Okay, I’m good. You deserve this, Betty,” she tells her, before getting serious and grabbing her hand. “Don’t let my pettiness keep you from seeing Jughead, if you really want to.”

Betty hesitates for a second, not daring to hope that something could be going right in her life for once, but gives into the moment and hugs Veronica tightly.

“Thanks, Veronica,” she says into her shoulder.

“My besties call me V,” Veronica says as she wraps her arms around Betty. “And I think after everything we’ve already been through together, we’re officially besties.”

Betty squeezes and then lets go. Veronica links their arms as they head out of the club, using her free hand to text the driver. When they emerge into the muggy air of the desert night, Betty starts to move towards the cab line until Veronica pulls her towards the black town car, yelling about a sleepover.

Later, after giggling for an hour and digging through Veronica’s closet for a pajama set that wasn’t made of silk or lace, Betty’s settled into the plush king bed in one of the many guest rooms in the Lodge mansion.

She reaches over to the nightstand for her bag, digging through until her fingers make contact with the card. Taking it out along with her phone, she uses her phone light to read the message written on the back one last time before flipping it over.

She punches in the number and types out a message, her fingers hesitant on the screen. Letting Veronica’s words wash over her, she taps the send button before she can change her mind. She hears the quiet whoosh tone signalling that the message went through as she sets her phone down, and she stares at the stars outside the window and prays she hasn’t made a terrible mistake.

_Just tell me when and where. - B_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com) is an actual angel sent from heaven to fix my mistakes. Who has two thumbs and doesn't remember her main character's hair color? This girl.
> 
> Stuff gets real this chapter so...leave a comment or come talk to me about it on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com).

Betty is pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex when her text tone rings out of her purse. She had snuck out of Veronica’s house before breakfast to avoid getting dragged into another day of drinking, but hadn’t managed to escape running into Smithers, who insisted she take a few of “Miss Veronica’s” pastries for the road.

Juggling the basket of baked goods and the garment bag holding last night’s dress, she climbs the stairs to her apartment while rooting around in her purse to find her phone.

Betty manages to catch it between two fingers just as the screen goes dark and the garment bag slips down her arm. 

She lets out a huff, gathering her things up and putting her phone back in the bag in favor of her keys. Unlocking the door, she pushes through into the living room to toss everything on the table, and collapses onto the one armchair that decorates the blank space.

The phone chimes out again, reminding her of the unread text. She leans her head back into the chair, rubbing her eyes to shake the leftover haze from staying out late and getting up early, before crossing to the table to find her phone.

**Jughead Jones**

What are you doing Wednesday?

The typing bubble pops up again.

**Jughead Jones**

Having some friends over to my place for poker night. You can bring Veronica if you want. 

Betty flips through her mental calendar, trying to come up with an excuse not to go, but she’s coming up blank. After Veronica’s acceptance at the club, she has a hard time finding reasons to stay away. Switching over to her text conversation with Veronica, she types out a quick message.

**Betty Cooper**

How do we feel about poker at Jughead’s on Wednesday?

The response is almost instantaneous. 

**Veronica Lodge**

So in! 

There’s a string of emojis following her message, lots of clinking champagne glasses and sparkles. Betty laughs as she flips conversations again to type out a response to Jughead, but changes her mind and taps on his name at the top of the screen.

She’s barely managed to flop back down into the chair when he answers the phone.

“I was hoping you’d call,” he breathes down the line. 

“How could I say no to poker?” she says lightly, trying to keep her voice steady. “We’re in for Wednesday.”

His response is stuttered, like he was fully expecting to hear no and preparing to state his case. 

“Great! It’s just a few friends - you’ll like them.” He pauses for a moment and his voice sounds decidedly more flirty when he continues. “They’ll definitely like you, until you start taking their money.”

Betty laughs lowly, matching him with her own teasing remark. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least give you the chance to win your money back?”

He gets serious for a second. “I was just kidding, Betty. Don’t worry about-”

She cuts him off before he can drudge up the memories. “Bring your best game, Jones. I’m not going easy on you just because we’re friends now,” she tells him. “Text me the details. See you Wednesday!” 

Hanging up, she laughs at the rollercoaster ride her life has been. From stealing his money to kissing him to casually hanging out, all in the span of three days. God bless Veronica Lodge and her revenge plans, creating a new friendship out of what should have been a job.

The thought of the job reminds her of the piece of paper burning a hole in her pocket. Pulling the check out, she takes another look at the amount as she walks the few steps to the bedroom. 

_ Old habits die hard _ , she thinks to herself while shutting the blinds and closing the bedroom door. Her checks complete, she opens the closet and pushes the low-hanging dry-cleaner bags out of the way to get to the safe dial. 

She spins the combination, memorized months ago after a rash of thefts in the complex. The lock clicks, the door swings open, the check is added to a pile of cash. After shutting the door and spinning the dial to lock it back up, Betty sits back on her heels with a satisfied smile as the numbers add up in her head. Each dollar brings her closer to her goal and keeps the sharks away for another day.

* * *

The sun is just setting on Wednesday night when Betty and Veronica board the elevator in Jughead’s condo building. Veronica is unfazed by their surroundings, but Betty gawks at the multicolored lights and sleek black interior, more like a nightclub than an elevator.

She gets so involved in watching the lights that she completely misses the elevator bell signaling they’ve arrived at the destination. Jughead’s low chuckle catches her attention and she blushes before following Veronica through the doors. 

Given she has to work the next day, Betty had planned a built-in excuse to leave early, but as she takes in Jughead in those dark blue jeans and the soft-looking blue button up shirt, his sleeves perfectly rolled and the top two buttons undone, all of her careful planning just about flies out the window. 

She doesn’t realize they’re standing still in the entryway until Veronica pushes through the two of them, tossing Jughead a quick wave and a hello over her shoulder before striding into the apartment. Betty can hear her voice echoing in the foyer, greeting someone and exclaiming loudly: “Your hair! Love the pink!”

Jughead glances over his shoulder, further into the apartment. Seeing the group is suitably distracted, he leans in, ghosting a soft kiss over her cheek. She shudders at the feather-light touch, leaning into the contact. 

Her eyes slide closed of their own volition as he presses another kiss on the tip of her nose, making her giggle until he leans in, his lips almost touching hers.

“Hi,” he whispers, and she echoes him with a smile. 

One black curl has fallen onto his forehead, so she pushes it out of his eyes and pushes away her tender thoughts.

“No funny business,” she teases. “I’m here for you to try to win your money back, not any of that.”

“Side bet?” Jughead asks, piquing her interest.

“What are the stakes?”

“Stay the night,” he nearly breathes. She raises an eyebrow, and he rushes out an explanation. “Nothing has to happen, I just want to get to know you. On home turf.”

Betty scoffs, a cocky smile on her face. “You’d have to win first. What do I get if I win?”

Jughead smirks. “You like to play people. How’d you like to meet one of the greats?”

She scans her mind, trying to figure out who’s in town that he might know. “I know most of the con men in this town. I don’t think you can tempt me with -”

“FP Jones,” he says. She lets out a surprised squeal before slapping her hand over her mouth to try and take back the sound. “I can get you time with him.”

She doesn’t even hesitate in her response. “Yes.”

FP Jones is practically a legend in town. He could get in anywhere, from back-room poker games to high-class galas, with nothing but his silver tongue and quick wit. She’s heard rumors that he stays nearby, living a quiet life with the money he’s won - and stolen, if the talk is to be believed - but no one has ever confirmed it.

A criminal record could kill you in this town, so it’s enough of a miracle that FP has managed to keep his nose clean long enough to avoid getting arrested or killed. She’s gotten away with a lot of things so far, but she can only hope to do the same.

Jughead takes her hand, pulling her out of her thoughts and down the hallway to join the rest of the group clustered around a marble island in the middle of a gorgeous kitchen.

“Everyone, this is Betty Cooper!” Veronica says. Pointing out the others as she goes, she introduces the rest of the group. “Betty, meet Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Toni.”

“Fangs? Sweet Pea? Who named you?” Betty asks with a laugh. The one Veronica had introduced as Fangs slaps his hand over his chest in mock pain.

“We couldn’t let Jughead be the only one with a stupid nickname,” the tall one -  _ Sweet Pea _ , her mind provides - cuts in, slapping Jughead’s shoulder. “So we all picked one.”

“Not me,” Toni says. “That’s all for you idiots.”

“We picked one for her anyway,” Fangs says under his breath to Betty. “She hates it, but that’s what makes it fun.”

“What was that?” Toni asks, raising an eyebrow as Fangs tries to stutter out a response. 

“Nothing… _ Tiny _ ,” he trails off. Toni almost launches herself over the counter before Sweet Pea grabs her arms, lifting her off of her feet. 

“So how did you and Jughead meet?” Sweet Pea asks, completely ignoring Toni kicking at his kneecaps. 

She hesitates, trying to think of a response that won’t immediately put them on the defensive for their friend.

“At dinner the other night,” Jughead saves her. “When you all were at the fight.”

“Put me  _ down, _ you asshole!” Toni shouts, and Sweet Pea obliges. She turns to give him a death glare for a second before turning back to Betty, glancing at her quizzically before a light flicks on in her mind.

“You’re the girl from the pool,” she realizes. Betty watches Fangs and Sweet Pea make the connection before shrugging her shoulders.

“Guilty,” Betty says offhandedly. Glancing up at Jughead, she sees him smiling down at her and tells a shortened version of the story. “Jughead and I ran into each other. We had dinner together, and then I took him for a ride at the tables.”

Sweet Pea lets out a low whistle as Toni and Fangs stare at her in shock. 

“B’s really good,” Veronica says, snapping them out of it. “I hope you’re all ready to lose to her.”

“Debatable,” Fangs tells her. “Jughead may be good, but I’m the best.”

“Shut up, idiot. It’s definitely me,” Toni says. Sweet Pea argues that he’s the one who won last time, and the three of them bicker for a moment before Betty reaches between them to grab the deck of cards laying on the counter. 

Waving them in the air, she waits until she has their attention before her mouth turns up into a teasing grin. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

Jughead pulls a case of chips from a closet in the hallway as Veronica plays cocktail server, mixing drinks for everyone positioning themselves around the table. Grabbing a stack of chips from the case, Betty sits next to Toni, asking her about her pink hair as everyone else takes their seats.

Once Veronica’s finished making drinks, she takes her seat between Betty and Sweet Pea. 

“Let’s play already!” Veronica cheers, and Jughead deals the cards for the first hand.

Betty glances around the table as everyone looks at their cards, gauging the rest of the group for anything she can use as an advantage. It’s just a game for fun, but old habits die hard, especially at the tables.

“All y’all might want to fold right now,” Fangs says, throwing down a few chips. 

Toni scoffs, “Y’all? You’re from California, Fangs.” Looking at her cards again, she tosses in a few chips of her own. “Call.”

Betty adds her own chips, playing it safe for the first hand as she learns the group. “Call,” she says softly.

Veronica looks around the table, down at her cards, then tosses them into the center of the table with a huff. “I fold. You know I suck at poker.”

Sweet Pea slings an arm over the back of her chair, leaning his head towards her. 

“But you look so pretty playing it,” he says, and she rolls her eyes, the small smile creeping onto her face betraying the truth. “Call,” he adds, putting his own chips into the pot.

Jughead flips the toothpick between his teeth and pushes a stack of chips onto the table. “Might want to take your own advice, Fangs. I’m raising.”

The smirk that crosses Jughead’s face has Betty wiggling in her seat uncomfortably, the toothpick making her wonder just what kind of magic he can work with his tongue. It’s enough to throw her off her game and toss in a raise instead of a call, which leads to another round of ribbing from the group.

Sweet Pea wins the first hand, and Betty takes a break between rounds to mix another drink, wandering through the apartment to the windows set into the far wall.

Sipping on the cocktail, she looks down at the lights, the neon just coming to life with the dying sun. The view up here is awe-inspiring, close enough to the ground to see the action below but high enough to look over the buildings of the Strip and see the mountains in the distance. 

She loses herself in the view so easily that it takes Veronica a few tries to grab her attention to call her back for the next game. Betty can feel Jughead’s eyes on her as she walks back to the table, taking her seat with a questioning glance at him, which he just shakes his head at with a smile.

After a few more rounds of raising the stakes and calling with crap cards, Veronica runs out of chips. “I prefer to watch anyways,” she remarks, turning in her seat to lean into Sweet Pea’s shoulder.

“You and me both,” Fangs snaps back, before he and Toni burst into laughter.

Betty sees the opportunity and takes advantage of the rare time she can think up a snappy comeback at the right moment. “That’s the only way you get any, right Fangs?” 

The table goes quiet for a beat, long enough for Betty to start making up an apology in her head, before Veronica snorts in laughter, followed quickly by Sweet Pea, Jughead and Toni. Amid their laughter, Fangs leans over and gives Betty a grudging fist bump.

“I guess I’ll give you that one, Cooper,” he says, a smile on his face. “It was a solid burn.”

From then on, Betty’s a part of the gang, tossing insults like she tosses down chips. It’s easy playing for fun instead of survival, and she enjoys playing up the card shark image she normally has to hide away to draw in the high rollers. 

The drinks are flowing, everyone’s laughing, and Betty thinks she may actually have found some friends she can trust.

Even after his boisterous claims of being the best, Fangs is the next to go out after trying to catch Jughead in a bluff by using the rest of his chips to raise the stakes.

Throwing his last chips into the pot, Fangs leans back in his chair and sighs in disgust. “I swear, I don’t know why we play with you anymore. You have no tells.”

Jughead just smiles and rakes the chips in from the pot, picking one up to flip it through his long, slim fingers. Betty can feel her mouth go dry at the sight, her thoughts instantly going to what those fingers can do, until Veronica kicks her under the table.

“Ow!” Even for a casual poker game, Veronica had worn her favorite pointed toe heels, and they had left a mark. Betty glares at her as she leans down to rub the spot, while Veronica flicks her head at the table.

“Your bet, B,” Veronica says, raising an eyebrow with a grin as if she knew exactly why Betty was distracted.

Betty looks down and realizes she has two new cards in front of her and she missed the betting action. “What’s the bet?”

A smirk crosses Jughead’s face as Fangs heckles her. “Party foul, Betty! This isn’t a game for kids.”

Betty’s eyes narrow. “Only because you’re not playing anymore.”

Toni giggles, and Sweet Pea counts through his own stack of chips. “We’re only up to $20.” 

Betty takes a quick look at her cards and throws in her chips, trying to ignore Jughead’s eyes on her and that annoying smirk. On the next pass, she folds after Sweet Pea raises the bet again, sitting back to sip her drink as Sweet Pea loses the last of his chips on a lowly two pair. 

As Jughead collects the cards and Toni collects the chips, Veronica glances at her phone. “Is it that late already? I’ve gotta run, I have a meeting with a prospective buyer for breakfast.” Rising to grab her things from the kitchen, she gives Betty a knowing look. “Are you coming with?”

Jughead looks up from the cards he’s shuffling. “I can call a car for Betty after the game,” he says, before turning to Betty. “If you want to stick around,” he adds.

She tries to remember her reason for leaving early, the built-in excuse, but his wanting eyes and the thought of the side bet keep her in her seat. Betty glances at Veronica, offering a nod and a small smile. Turning back to Jughead, the smile grows. 

“I can stay a while longer,” she tells him. Betty gets up to say goodbye, hugging Veronica and receiving a whispered reminder to be careful in return. 

Sweet Pea jumps up from his seat as Veronica waves to the group in farewell. “I’ll walk you out,” he murmurs, sharing a smile with Veronica and heading to the elevator.

“Guess we’re not seeing him again tonight,” Fangs says under his breath, causing Toni to let out a small laugh. Betty looks between the two of them with a question in her eyes.

“Pea and Veronica have had a thing for a while now,” Toni explains.

“Funny, Veronica didn’t tell me anything about it,” Betty says, feeling a little hurt, before Fangs jumps in.

“They’re not officially dating or anything,” he says, “Pea’s never manned up to ask her.”

Toni slaps his arm and turns to Betty. “He’s just waiting for the right time. From what he’s told me, he wants to be more established before he asks.” Leaning in, Toni lowers her voice to speak to Betty without Fangs overhearing. “I get the feeling that he wants it to be long term, and Veronica Lodge is accustomed to a slightly higher class of living.”

Betty nods, understanding completely. Spending one full day in Veronica’s presence and seeing the lavish way she lives had made Betty’s head spin. Luckily, Veronica had insisted on paying for the dresses, the cabana, even the money she had used at the tables, or Betty would be adding another item to her laundry list of debts.

“They like each other, but not enough to commit, so they hook up whenever Pea’s in town,” Jughead pipes up. “He travels a lot for work,” he tells Betty, “so he’s not around all the time, but he always comes when Veronica calls.” 

With the last word and a wink at Betty, he deals another hand to start the next round.

Fangs wanders off to make another drink, and Betty realizes Jughead and Toni must be the real players in the group. The table grows silent, only a muttered bet or call spoken over the two chips in Toni’s hand rubbing against each other and the ice clinking in Jughead’s glass.

Betty actually starts to feel a little nervous when Toni pushes her last three chips into the pot. She’s a hard one to read, so the reveal could go either way. 

“Hands?” Jughead beckons, and one by one they reveal their cards. 

Betty shows three of a kind, followed by Toni’s straight. She holds her breath as Jughead turns over his cards.

Flush. Winner.

Toni sighs, rising from the table to stretch her arms above her head. “My ass is sore from sitting for so long. Fangs,” she calls into the kitchen, “Time to go!”

“Leaving already?” Jughead says with a grin. “I’m just hitting my hot streak.”

“I’ve got to put in an appearance at work tomorrow, and I’m out of chips,” Toni says. “You two have fun though.”

Fangs emerges from the kitchen, a sandwich in hand. “What’d I miss?” he asks through a mouthful of bread.

Jughead and Toni roll their eyes almost in unison, which Betty finds a little impressive. Toni pushes Fangs towards the elevator and Jughead flips him off as Fangs shouts out his thanks for the sandwich.

Betty realizes they’re alone at the same moment Jughead slides into the seat next to her, slinging an arm around the back of her chair. 

“Since it’s just the two of us,” he breathes, “how about that bet?”

His closeness is messing with her mind, forcing her to take a second to collect her thoughts and think about her words instead of that infuriating toothpick still dangling out of the corner of his mouth.

Remembering the frantic kisses at the club and how those arms felt wrapped around her, she throws caution to the wind, for once saying exactly what she’s thinking. “Since you set the stakes for the bet, I want to add another factor.”

He arches an eyebrow in surprise. “What did you have in mind?” he asks.

Her eyes brighten and a grin fills her face. “Strip poker?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, his eyes widening in shock. The toothpick shifts to the other side before his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. He shifts in his seat almost uncomfortably, then leans forward to pick up the deck.

The corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk, as his long fingers start to shuffle the cards. “You should probably start unbuttoning now.”

She shoots him a coy wink before picking up her chips. “You first,” she breathes, watching the cords of muscle over his forearms flex as he deals the cards.

After sneaking a quick glance at her cards, she lets herself get swept up into the excitement of the private game. Jughead somehow finds a way to touch her with his every move, brushing her knee with his as he adds another card to the dealer’s position, their fingers meeting as he tries to scoop some chips from her pile and she slaps his hand away.

He is the first to lose, counting on her bluff that never came, and his eyes are heavy as he strips off the shirt to reveal his bare arms, with his torso covered by a white tank top. Betty can feel his gaze lower to her lip, now trapped between her teeth at the sight of the abs visible through the tight fabric.

“You keep that up and I can’t be held responsible for what happens after,” Jughead rasps and she’s not expecting the rush of fluid that starts between her legs at the sound.

They’re fairly evenly matched through the next few hands, but Jughead’s still wearing his pants while Betty is forced to remove her shirt and jeans, leaving a pale blue lace bra and panty set that she had chosen on a whim - not because she expected anything to happen. Not that anything will happen, she fiercely tells herself.

Even with the warning in her head, she can’t explain what comes over her in the next hand. 

Maybe it’s the constant eyes on her, darting to land on each new piece of skin that’s exposed, trying to find a safe place to look.

Maybe it’s how his breath hitches as she leans in to pick up chips and add them to the pot.

Or just maybe it’s how his hands go slack when she uncrosses her legs, revealing just how exciting this game has been.  

Any number of reasons could explain why she does something so colossally stupid as folding with a full house. All she knows is that the second her hands reach back and unclasp her bra, Jughead is on her, not even letting the fabric touch the ground before his hands are at her hips, pulling her up from her seat so her lips can meet his.

The heat from his hands at the skin of her torso and the pressure of his lips are all she can think of as she loses herself in the moment. Those long fingers that had been teasing her all night ever so gently slide up to grasp her breast and she can’t resist the shudder that runs down her spine.

Jughead’s lips separate from hers as he lowers his head to watch the movement of his hand, and they exhale in unison when the coarse pad of his thumb swipes at her nipple.

“Please-” she half moans, half sighs, and he listens to her plea, adding more pressure to circle the tight bud. Her knees quake at the sensation and his other arm comes to wrap firmly around her waist as his hand continues teasing her. 

He raises his head back up to kiss her firmly, drawing another sigh before releasing her completely. Betty’s eyes snap open at the loss but then he’s taking her hand, dragging her down a hallway barely lit by the neon lights of the windows.

“I would take you right there on that table if I could,” he says, pulling her into what must be his bedroom, “but Sweet Pea has a key, and I don’t know if he and Veronica are coming back.” 

The idea of someone - not just someone, but someone she considers a friend - finding them like this is a bucket of ice cold water on Betty’s libido. Without thinking, her hands come up to push against Jughead’s chest, even as one of his hands is on the back of her head, trying to pull her back to him.

The three moles forming a constellation on his cheek twitch as the corner of his mouth turns up into a rueful smile, realizing she’s not responding the way she was only seconds ago.

Breath heavy, he drops his forehead to burrow into the crook of her neck. “We should probably slow down, I’m guessing,” he says softly.

Resting her cheek on the top of his head, she closes her eyes and inhales his musky scent. “I’m not complaining, but I don’t know if this is the right time-”

“Exactly,” he says over her. “I told you I just wanted to get to know you, not jump you the second our friends left.”

She giggles at the word “our”, like the two of them are a unit already. The curve of his smile is a light touch against her skin, and he takes a deep breath in and out before detaching himself and going to the dresser along the wall. 

Digging through a drawer, he comes out with a plain white shirt, tossing it her way before going into the bathroom. She shrugs into the shirt while the water runs, and almost bursts into laughter at the low groan and thud that sounds pretty similar to a head pounding against a counter. 

When he emerges, his face is damp, but his breathing has evened out. Seeing his new sense of calm, she slips out onto the balcony, leaving the door open in clear invitation.

It’s still early enough in the year for the heat not  to be oppressive, which is why she doesn’t step away when he stands close behind her. He tentatively reaches out, resting his hands on her shoulders, and she pushes out a deep breath as his touch instantly calms her.

“It’s so peaceful up here,” she chances. “It’s like a more perfect version of Vegas.”

His hands slide down to her wrists, lacing their fingers together and bringing them to rest on her stomach. “I can’t believe I’m here sometimes. Some nights I come out here and just look around, telling myself to take it all in because it could be gone tomorrow.”

She doesn’t speak, subconsciously knowing this is something he needs to get off his chest.

After a minute, he continues. “After everything that’s happened, I’m lucky to still be here. Lucky to be as successful as I have been, just...lucky.”

Betty tries to turn and look at him, tries to move from his hold and force him to tell her more, her curiosity burning a hole in her chest, but he holds her steady. His grip around her waist tightens just the slightest bit, and she feels his words as a stream of air against her neck more than hearing them.

“Just let me enjoy this for a minute. This view,” he pauses, his thumb reaching up to rub her hipbone, “And you.” 

Honking horns from the traffic filter up to where they’re standing, providing the soundtrack for the show of light and life hundreds of feet below. It’s an overwhelming cocktail of color and noise, but Jughead’s arms around her anchor her to the moment, pushing everything else out.

She lets herself revel in the bliss before his lips press softly against her shoulder over his shirt. Squeezing his hand once more, she begins to extricate herself, ducking back into the air conditioned room.

Remembering she still has to work tomorrow, she looks around for a clock to check the time. There’s not much up on the walls in this room, and there’s no clock on the nightstand. She backtracks to the living room, cringing slightly at the pile of clothes next to the table before grabbing her bag to check her phone.

It’s earlier than she expects, but the time isn’t the interesting thing on the screen. There’s a missed call from a blocked number, a voicemail waiting.

She holds the phone up to her ear and a low voice comes over the line. She doesn’t recognize it, but the message is clear. Two words. “Time’s up.”

The color bleeds from her face and her arm goes slack, falling to her side. A million thoughts are running through her mind, each flitting away before she can focus, until her phone clatters to the tile.

The sound snaps her back into the present. Jumping to action, Betty frantically rushes through the room collecting her things, her thoughts narrowing into a checklist. 

_ Get back to the apartment and take the money out of the safe. Call Archie and tell him to check on Fred. Figure out how to get the extra ten thousand.  _

She’s pulling her shirt back on when footsteps sound through the room. Whirling around, Jughead holds up his hands in surrender and gawks at what she’s sure is a terrified look on her face.

“What’s the rush?” he jokes, still with concern in his eyes.

Betty leans down to tug on her jeans and avoid his gaze. “I have to go home, something came up.” 

She pushes past him to grab her bag under her chair, throwing her phone back in and rooting around for her keys. Her head tips back and her eyes slide closed when she can’t find them, remembering Veronica’s insistence on having a driver in case either of them drank.

“I can drive you,” Jughead offers, “or I can call you a car-”

“I’ll just grab a cab,” Betty says. Rushing towards the door and pressing the elevator call button, she pauses when she realizes Jughead is hot on her heels. 

She turns quickly, seeing the fear and confusion on his face and feeling the sudden urge to reassure him. Leaning up on to her toes, she places a shaky hand on his cheek.

“Thanks for tonight,” she whispers, kissing him softly before stepping backwards into the elevator.

The doors slide closed, and her mind turns to how exactly she’s going to pull this off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I post a chapter I thank [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com), and every time I mean it. Thank you for fixing my commas and verb tenses because apparently writing in present tense is hard for me.

He paces in front of the elevator, watching the numbers tick down to one and stop. He doesn’t realize he’s fisting his hand in his hair until the pain breaks through his focused haze.

For the life of him, Jughead can’t figure out what he did to drive Betty away so quickly.

The numbers slowly tick upward again, and he holds his breath until it stops at a different floor and starts working its way back down to the ground floor.

She’s not coming back.

Jughead forces himself away from the foyer and into the living room, taking in the mess they left behind. His button up and undershirt are tossed to the side and their cards are scattered on the table, piles of chips leaning precariously to one side.

His phone sitting in one of the cupholders catches his eye. Jughead had tossed it there when Sweet Pea arrived, carrying a six-pack of some imported beer and the bottle of whiskey they started with. Now the phone is his lifeline, and his hand is shaking so badly that it takes him three tries to get it unlocked.

A text from Sweet Pea is unopened at the top of the list, but Jughead pushes it away as he moves down the list of conversations to find Betty’s name.

_I’m sorry about what I -_

_Tell me what I did wrong so I can -_

_Why did you run off so -_

He’s not even sure what he wants to say at this point. Each possibility gets deleted, half-finished, until he finally settles on the safe option.

**Jughead Jones**

Please let me know if you got home safe.

The beer cooling in the fridge sounds like a pretty good idea, and he grabs a bottle opener and half the pack to take out to the balcony.

After two hours of steadily working his way through them and making a second trip to the kitchen for the rest, his phone finally chimes.

**Betty**

I’m home.

And that’s it. Two words, no explanation. He almost wants to throw the piece of technology over the edge, but the thought of losing his only line of contact to Betty stops him.

Except, he realizes, it’s not his only line of contact.

A plan brewing in his head, he shoots back a quick text telling her _sweet dreams_ before switching to his contact list.

* * *

The Starbucks she chooses is far enough off the Strip that Jughead has to question why she would even be out here. There’s no properties nearby, her house is on the other side of town, and all of the offices are industrial, so of course, he’s suspicious.

“What do you have up your sleeve?” Jughead asks as she slides into the seat across from him two days after the poker game, pushing her enormous sunglasses to the top of her head.

“I know exactly what you’ll do with that information, and I’m not giving you a leg up when it comes down to a bidding war,” Veronica tells him, taking a long sip from the bright green straw. “Let’s get to the point, shall we?”

He nods his head, and Veronica waves a hand as if she’s finally giving him permission to speak.

“It’s about Betty,” he starts. Veronica’s eyes widen and a smirk crosses her face. “After you and Pea disappeared, one thing led to another, and…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I really don’t need to hear about your sex life,” Veronica says. “As long as you treated her right, I don’t care.”

“That’s the thing,” Jughead says. “We didn’t really do anything. We just talked a bit, and did some...other stuff-“ Veronica starts to roll her eyes and he rushes to continue, “-and then she ran out of my apartment like her ass was on fire. I barely got to say goodbye before she was gone.”

Jughead twiddles his fingers and takes a deep breath. He’s not used to feeling so off-kilter, and he can barely get the words out.

“Can you please help me figure out what I did?” he murmurs.

Veronica leans in, examining his face for any hint of deceit, and he lets her. He doesn’t know what it is about Betty, but something about their unique meeting and the way she’d fit so perfectly into his life has made him okay with stooping to ask Veronica Lodge for a favor.

She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, and nods her head. “I’ll help - but I want something in return. Your table at Omnia for the 4th of July.”

Jughead can’t believe it’s going to be that easy. “You got it. Now I need Betty’s address.”

“Really? Not even going to ask me why?” Veronica asks, a beatific smile on her face.

He sighs. “Well, since you obviously want to rub my nose in it, I guess you can tell me.”

Veronica leans in and lowers her voice. “Daddy has some contacts coming to town. Asian markets. They’re looking to sell, and we’re doing it big for them.”

“Macau? Or Singapore?” Jughead asks, his curiosity getting the better of him, before he shakes his head and snaps out of it. “Don’t distract me with your crazy plans. I’m here for Betty.”

“Just saying, Jones, we could make big things happen overseas. My hotels, your eye for clubs and restaurants...“ she trails off, and Jughead can’t believe what he’s seeing as the great Veronica Lodge ducks her head with a soft smile. “Pea’s getting transferred to a new client and he asked me to come with him.”

He’s not exactly surprised, but he definitely didn’t expect Sweet Pea to move that fast. The two of them were bound to end up together. The only question was whether or not it would last.

“Wow...congrats, Veronica. Really, I’m happy for you guys,” he says. “It’s amazing. We all sort of knew Sweet Pea was going to end up moving, but I didn’t think you’d even consider it.”

“When you know, you know, right?” Veronica says, before a wicked twinkle lights her eyes. “A bit like you and Betty.”

He barks out a laugh. “I guess we’ll see when I show up at her place randomly. She might want nothing to do with me after that.”

Veronica’s hand comes up to rest on his. “Jug, I love you like a brother, and I think that gives me the right to remind you the brooding loner thing is so early 2000’s. Self-confidence is in.”

He just rolls his eyes at the attempted pep talk. “Thanks for that. So helpful,” he says flatly.

“Veronica Lodge is nothing if not gracious to a friend in need,” she says, “even if that friend won’t even consider a legitimate business proposition.”

“I don’t know if jetting off to another continent is the best decision right now,” he tells her, thinking of everything keeping him tied to Vegas - his friends, his work, maybe even a certain blonde girl who’s constantly on his mind.

“Just think about it, okay? Maybe on the drive to Betty’s,” Veronica says as she picks up her phone to type in a message. His phone pings shortly after, and a glance down shows an address just north of the Strip.

“I will,” he promises, before he snatches up his phone and escapes out the door, pushing Veronica’s knowing smile to the back of his mind.

The complex he pulls up to is surprisingly neat, tucked away on a side street that’s as quiet as it can be this close to the Strip. He notes the open security gate and a few rusted out cars parked in shady spots, each tagged with an orange parking violation sticker.

It’s not the kind of place he pictured for Betty. A thought enters his mind, unbidden, her bright smile as she dances around his kitchen in the same t-shirt he loaned her, her hair gleaming in the neon lights shining on his balcony. Her clothes mixed in his closet and two toothbrushes in a cup next to the sink.

He can’t even begin to imagine where that idea came from, but he has to admit he likes it.

He has to find her first. Checking the map open on his screen, he locates the red pin and pulls into a parking spot.

The apartment number Veronica sent is just in front of him, but he hesitates. This is a huge violation of privacy, they’ve only met a few times, she doesn’t even know half of what his life is like.

A quiet voice that sounds suspiciously like a conscience runs through a list of the terrible things that could be happening in that apartment. A fall in the shower, a carbon monoxide leak, home invasion-

He’s pounding on her door before he even realizes he’s out of the car. It takes a few seconds, but soon Betty opens the door, her face contorted in disbelief.

“Jughead? What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses out, her eyes frantically scanning the parking lot behind him before she turns to look inside, her eyes widening in fear.

“I didn’t want to leave things the way we did Wednesday. I asked Veronica for your address, don’t be mad,” he rushes as he takes her in. Her eyes are bloodshot, and the bags underneath them weren’t there two days ago. Something is wrong.

“You need to leave, now,” she says, starting to push the door closed.

“Not until you tell me what I did wrong,” he says.

“Please, Jughead,” she begs, her eyes softening, before she tenses up and another voice sounds out from inside the apartment.

“Friend of yours, Betty?” the man asks, his hand coming to rest protectively on Betty’s shoulder. He’s young and rich, by the look of the diamond cufflink peeking out from under his suit sleeve, and his red hair is perfectly coiffed, not a single strand out of place.

On the surface, he looks fine, but Jughead hasn’t gotten this far in life by not trusting his instincts, and they’re screaming at him to run fast and run far.

The hand on Betty’s shoulder tightens, and her eyes are pleading when she responds. “No, Mr. Blossom. Just a neighbor,” she says over her shoulder. To Jughead, she shakes her head. “Sorry, I haven’t seen your dog. I’ll keep an eye out.”

With one last pleading glance, she closes the door in his face.

It takes one minute of him standing there, eyes still locked on the decorative door number, before he snaps himself out of it and storms to his car, trying to figure out just who this Mr. Blossom is. He can’t be particularly close to her, since she didn’t call him by his first name, but he’s close enough to know where she lives. She seemed scared to answer the door, so he’s most likely someone unsavory.

That’s when it hits him. Who knows everyone in the dark underbelly beneath the glittering lights?

Jughead unlocks his car and climbs in, starting it up before hitting the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Call Dad.”

The dial tone rings twice before FP Jones answers. “Long time, no talk, son.”

“You can complain about the fact that I haven’t come to visit you in months later,” Jughead says, already irritated at having to call in his dad’s help. “I need to know if you know anyone named Blossom.”

FP goes quiet for a moment, long enough for Jughead to think the worst, when FP chimes in again. “I knew a Clifford Blossom, but he’s been dead for a few years. He ran most of Fremont before he died and they ran out of money, but his daughter Cheryl is working on bringing it back. I think he had a son - Jim? Jason? Yeah, his name’s Jason.”

“Are they…you know….like you?” Jughead asks, mind jumping to the worst.

FP chuckles darkly. “Yeah, they’re like me.”

Jughead’s spine stiffens as FP continues.

“They’re loan sharks, but they don’t play it fair and they leave a big mess behind,” FP says, and Jughead starts to put the pieces together in his mind. “If you’re in deep with the Blossoms, you’re probably never getting out.”

Blood roars in Jughead’s ears as he imagines Blossom in there threatening Betty, or worse. He’s about to jump out of the car and run back to break down the door until it swings open again, the redhead leaving carrying a duffle bag, a little skip in his step. Jughead watches him walk away, before realizing his dad is trying to get his attention.

“You still there?” FP asks.

“Sorry, what?” Jughead says, his eyes tracking Jason to a silver BMW parked a few rows over.

“Why are you asking about the Blossoms?” FP says, his voice questioning. “You’d better not be in any trouble, boy.”

“Look, I’m fine, and I’ll explain it later. I’m going to find some time to come see you in a couple of days, okay?” Jughead pauses. “And I might bring someone with me.”

FP goes quiet for a second, then the words come rushing out. “I’m happy you’re coming, Jug. I’ve missed you.”

Jughead tips his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. “Yeah Dad, I’ve missed you too.”

FP says a quiet goodbye and the line beeps signaling the end of the call. Jughead lets himself breathe for a little while, until the sound of a nearby siren snaps him back into reality.

Only one thought is on his mind as he steps out of the car, taking the walk to the apartment door slowly. This time, he’s not letting her push him away.

It only takes a quick knock before Betty answers. She takes one look at his face, and her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You might as well come in.”

Jughead follows her into the small but tidy apartment, taking in the minimal decorations and the lack of any personal photos. She gestures to the one chair, telling him to take a seat while she goes to the kitchen.

“Do you want anything?” she asks, voice muffled by the refrigerator door as she leans in to pull out a bottle of water. The innocuous action pushes him over the edge.

“I just want to know if you’re okay. What the hell was a Blossom doing here? Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asks, biting back the questions he desperately wants to ask. _Why did you run away? Why didn’t you want to stay?_

Betty’s eyes – red rimmed from tiredness or tears, he’s not sure which – close slowly as she takes a slow breath, then pop open with a purpose. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

He drops onto the chair and Betty boosts herself up to sit on the countertop, putting as much distance between them as possible in the small space. Fingers fiddling with the bottle’s paper label, her eyes fix on the wall above his head and she starts her story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you with the cliffhanger, but all will be revealed next chapter. 
> 
> Come talk to me about this on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com) or leave a comment, if you're so inclined. They're like fuel for authors.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a beast of a chapter and I'm so thankful for [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com) for reading it through.
> 
> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com).
> 
> TW: Mentions of addiction in this chapter.

Betty lets herself take one long look at Jughead. After he hears this, he may be out the door faster than she can explain, but she needs him to know. She steels herself with a breath and starts to speak.

“I grew up in upstate New York in this tiny town called Riverdale. My parents had the perfect marriage, high school sweethearts who got married and had my sister and me. They had the perfect life, so they insisted we had to be perfect too.”

She looks down at the water bottle she’s still switching between her hands. “My sister ran away when she turned 16. I haven’t talked to her since she came into my room one morning and told me she was getting on a bus. After that, my mom and dad were fighting all the time and my mom kept pushing me and pushing me to do better, to be better.

“Whenever things got really bad between them, I would go next door to my best friend Archie’s house,” she says, and feels a small smile pull the corners of her mouth up. 

“Archie’s parents were nice, always telling him they loved him, going to all of his football games and talent shows...I liked to pretend I was Archie’s sister and I had two parents who loved me and cared about me more than they cared about pissing each other off.”

“My freshman year, the year Polly left, my dad left too. He moved into an apartment in town, but my mom never let me see him.” 

She remembers that little room above the town’s bookshop, remembers biking past the building on her way to school and trying to work up the courage to stop. She never did, too afraid of what her mother would do if she ever found out. 

“That’s when I started hanging out with Archie’s dad, Fred, at the job sites his construction company worked on. He’s the one who taught me how to play poker.” 

Betty had earned her pocket money at the weekly games with Fred’s crew, showing up in her knitted cardigans and pastel Keds only to sweep the floor with his guys. When she had turned 16, she had started saving that money. She hadn’t been sure what for at the time. 

“High school was...rough, to say the least. Things were terrible with my mom, and Archie’s parents got divorced our junior year, so it was hard to be around their house too. Worked my butt off to get a scholarship to attend the state school campus in Greendale, so I found a cheap apartment and moved out the day after graduation. I haven’t seen anyone in my family since.”

She lets herself take a sip of water as Jughead tries to hold back his surprise. It still stung to think about, even after seven years of no contact. She at least thought her father would reach out, but as far as she knew he was still living in that little apartment and writing stories for the Register, happy living without his family.

“Things were hard, but they were great. I got to eat what I wanted, wear what I wanted, and even though I was going to classes and working two jobs, I loved it. Until I found out what had been going on at home while I was an hour and three towns away.”

In the months that followed that first disastrous holiday break, she would wonder how Archie had managed to keep it from her for so long. At the time though, she was too focused on fixing the problem to think about how they hid it from her.

“The semester was over and I had a day off from work, so I decided to drive over and visit Fred. I thought Archie was still at school - he was supposed to be studying to be a music teacher closer to the city.” 

“When I got there, Fred was laying in bed and Archie was home, and it looked like he had never even left. Apparently Fred had been in an accident on a job site and hurt his back. Archie had dropped his classes and come home to take care of him and run the company. I wanted to come back too. I told them I’d break my lease, call the university and tell them I was leaving, everything."

She shakes her head at the thought of their response. "They insisted I go back to school. Fred promised he'd be back on his feet in no time, Archie said he’d just delayed his start so he would be in classes in the fall. And they continued this for three years."

Jughead's mouth drops open in shock at that. She nods her head, continuing the story. "I stayed in Greendale over breaks, working and taking winter and summer courses so I could graduate early. I saw them on Christmas and called them every few weeks. Each time, Archie talked about his classes and Fred talked about projects." She lets out a rueful laugh. "It was so much worse than I imagined. I came back to Riverdale, degree in hand, and stepped into a mess."

"Fred had..." she pauses, feeling her eyes well up with tears. She stares hard at the blank wall behind Jughead’s head to keep them from falling. "Fred had become addicted to pain pills. They gave him a prescription for the back injury, but when it ran out he found other ways to get them. I found a cabinet full of medicine bottles. OxyContin, Vicodin, Percocet. They all had different names on them. I was never sure how he got them, but it didn't look good." 

Her discovery had been completely accidental. She cut herself chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, and went digging in Fred's cabinet for a bandage. The bottles had almost fallen into her lap, each prescribed to someone other than Fred Andrews. After that, she had stormed back into the kitchen with an armful of them and demanded the truth.

“Archie didn’t even know how bad it was. He thought it was just a long recovery period, and he led crews with the construction company while Fred worked in the office. That was the beginning of the end for them,” she murmurs. “Archie knew nothing about being a foreman, and the company suffered. No one wanted to hire Andrews Construction, the medical bills were piling up, and the money was going to Fred’s addiction instead of where it was needed.”

“That night I got in Fred’s truck and drove to Atlantic City. Sat down at a poker table and didn’t get up until I won enough to cover the first payment for an addiction treatment center.” 

She remembers the laser focus she had then, slapping down a few hundred dollar bills and playing through the night with a rotating cast of retirees. At one point, a manager had come over and offered to move her to the VIP room, but she had turned him down, her hot streak keeping her glued to that one seat. 

It worked. Betty left the casino at noon the next day and called the center on the way to Riverdale. After driving Fred to the center just an hour north, she and Archie sat down to go through the mess of paperwork that had accumulated while they thought Fred had been running the office. 

“After that, we figured out Archie needed hundreds of thousands to get the company back into the black and cover the remaining bills. There was no way to get that kind of money in Riverdale. I told him we needed to get creative.” 

The morning after a night at the tables probably wasn’t the best time to make major life-changing decisions, but she had pushed through with the first crazy idea she’d had. 

“I had just graduated, and I needed a job. I wasn’t going to go groveling to my parents, so why not go where the money was big?” She can see the wheels in Jughead’s mind start to turn, and she nods at his questioning gaze. 

“I found an opening at Lodge and applied. Somehow I got it. Archie and I fought like crazy about it, but I finally convinced him to let me go win the money we needed.”

The night they made the decision was the same night she screwed up her courage and knocked on the red door of her childhood home. Her mother’s station wagon was parked in the driveway and the lights in the kitchen were on, so she knocked. 

Footsteps had sounded down the front hall, the click of the heels her mother had always preferred. Betty had glanced down at her own scuffed tennis shoes, taking in the frayed laces and cracking plastic.

Stiffening her shoulders, Betty had looked back up and locked eyes with her mother. A beat passed...and those heels were turning, clicking back deeper into the house, not even opening the door for her younger daughter before pushing her away.

Betty had gone back to Archie’s house and cried into his shoulder at the kitchen table. She hadn’t even tried to explain, letting the tears flow until she had none left to shed.

Once her breath had evened out from its hiccuping sobs and her eyes had cleared, she’d told Archie in no uncertain terms that she would be going to Vegas, with or without his permission. 

He had silently passed over the keys to Fred’s truck.

Two weeks later, she was settled in the very apartment she and Jughead were sitting in now, ready to start her new job with Lodge Industries.

“I was nobody at Lodge, but that was fine with me. I put in my time at the office for a few weeks, getting my bearings and sending every spare penny back to Archie for Fred and Andrews Construction.

“Once I had been here for a month, I started going after the big money.”

She smiles slightly at the memory of that first night out. Without knowing anything about the scene, the people, or the rules, she had worked her way into a private game with the vice president of one of the local entertainment companies, a prominent lawyer, and a tech genius who sold his startup idea for millions of dollars. 

Four hours later, Betty walked out with enough to pay Archie’s crew for the next two weeks. 

“I worked a normal office job during the day, answering phones, getting coffee, scheduling meetings. At night, I’d be at the high stakes tables, making two months’ salary in a week. I kept it up for a few months, and that’s when I met Veronica.”

Jughead sits up straight in his seat. He goes to open his mouth, probably to question how Veronica fits in, and she rushes to speak before he can interrupt.

“One night, we were at one of the Lodge properties. I tried to avoid playing there, shitting where you eat and all that, but I was desperate. A friend had tipped me off that a high roller was coming to town, someone who would put down enough on one hand to cover the rest of Fred’s medical bills, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“Veronica was there, taking some clients around. I’m still not sure how she figured out it was me, but there was a card on my desk from her the next day telling me to come up to her office.”

Betty had not been prepared to meet the boss’s excitable daughter. She thought for sure she was going to be fired, but Veronica’s assistant had opened the door and Betty found herself wrapped in a tight hug as Veronica babbled her amazement.

Veronica had noticed Betty cleaning up while the man she played with was paying more attention to her than his cards. She saw the value in that skill. If Betty could get the high rollers to lay down the big bucks for card games, why not use that for the benefit of Lodge Industries?

“She put in a good word for me, which got me a promotion to VIP relations. She also introduced me to some people who would pay me for other less-than-legal reasons. It was the perfect set up. More money in my paycheck, and the connections I needed for my other line of work.”

Taking the money of random high rollers and going after rivals of business tycoons definitely helped with day to day costs. Andrews Construction was close to being back on track, and things were running smoothly in Riverdale and Vegas.

“It worked for a few months until Fred relapsed and had to be readmitted into the facility.”

Betty lets a tear fall at the memory of Archie’s frantic phone call, finding his father passed out on the bathroom floor. She had told him not to worry, that she would cover it, and started searching for a way to do that.

“The money wasn’t coming in fast enough, and I heard through the grapevine that the Blossoms were an easy way to make up the difference. I tried my hardest to keep from going to them, but it was a tough time.” 

“At first, it was easy to pay it back. The business was doing better. Fred was only in treatment for a month before he came home. I was making enough between my job at Lodge and my nighttime activities to pay it back in the installments they wanted.”

Archie had tried to pay part of it, but she kept turning him down. The payments the Blossoms had asked for were doable, and Archie was still working on making the construction company profitable. Looking back, she almost regrets not taking him up on it.

“Two months ago, I got a message on my phone from Jason Blossom. They needed a bigger payment. Big enough that I wasn’t going to be able to make it work without help. I managed to hold them off for another month with a few big scores, but it didn’t last long.”

Veronica was never supposed to hire her for her  _ other _ skills, but she was ranting about the Venetian deal over lunch that same week and Betty was in a bind. 

Five minutes later, she was offering her services and mentally counting the cash in her safe to see how much she could give the Blossoms as a down payment.

“This job with Veronica was supposed to be my insurance payment. Enough to get them off my back for a while and give me time to earn the remainder. Then I would have paid the loan back, with interest, and gotten away from them for good.”

Until she met Jughead. Until she discovered he was her mark. Until she figured out she actually liked him. 

“That night I left your place so fast, Jason called and told me he was coming to collect. In full. I had to come home and see what I had, how much I needed to make before the deadline.”

She spent the next days in a haze, going from work to tables and back to work again, putting in long hours to try and make up the money she still needed. Even after that, she was still a few thousand short of the full loan.

“When you were here earlier, I was trying to convince him to hold off with the payment from Veronica and the promise of paying off the full amount, plus a bonus, in two weeks. It took some needling, but he agreed.”

With a threat. He promised that if the full amount wasn’t ready when he came back, there would be hell to pay. Betty had seen too many movies not to know exactly what he meant. If she didn’t pay up, she wouldn’t be leaving Vegas alive.

Of course, Jughead doesn’t need to know that part.

The man in question sits silently, and Betty lets him process. She drops off the counter, tossing her bottle in the recycling bin and going through the pile of envelopes growing on the counter until he finally speaks.

“What’s happening in two weeks?” he rasps out.

She quirks a questioning eyebrow in response.

“What’s happening in two weeks that you can earn the rest of the money?” he clarifies. 

“There’s a game coming up. A big, not exactly legal game,” she says. “I can make enough to pay off my debts and that will be the end of it.”

Jughead sits in disbelief, contemplating before he asks her one question. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

She scoffs. “Who am I going to tell? Veronica? You? Veronica has already done too much for me, and in case you forgot, we met when I was conning you out of your money!” She barks out a harsh laugh, scrubbing one hand over her face to keep the frustrated tears from showing.

Jughead slowly rises and frees her other hand from its death grip on the countertop. “You know that’s not how it is with Veronica. Even I can see how close you two have gotten, and…I want to be there for you too.” 

She can feel her eyes filling as his hands release hers, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her.

“I want to help you. Please let me in,” he whispers into her hair, and she can’t hold it back anymore. She buries her face in his shirt, tears creating a wet patch over his heart, and she wants to feel bad, but she can’t. She’s been the strong one for so long. It’s nice to be taken care of for once.

He holds her through her crying, rubbing her back and combing his fingers through her hair. Once the tears have begun to slow, he gets her tissues, watching her closely as she dries her eyes.

“I need to help my family, and I need to do it, not have someone else solve my problems for me. So please, let me do this my way,” she pleads.

“I know, but these people are different than the whales on the Strip with more money than sense,” he tells her. “We need to bring in the big guns for this.”

Betty’s mind flips through names and faces.  “Who did you have in mind?” she asks, and he smiles tightly.

“We’re going to see FP Jones.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think?
> 
> PSA: This story and the situations in it are fictional, but addiction, especially opioid addiction, is very real for millions of people in the United States alone. 
> 
> If you or someone you know is affected by drug addiction, please consider calling the SAMHSA National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357) (US), NHS's FRANK Helpline at 0300 123 6600 (UK), or the National Alcohol and Other Drug hotline: 1800 250 015 (AUS).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say except maybe sorry for leaving this for a month and thank you to [Addy](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com) for reading this over and not judging me for how long it took.
> 
> See you at the bottom.

The next day, Jughead finds himself back at Betty’s apartment in a much better mood. She bounces into the car with a large cup of coffee and kisses him on the cheek, already filled with excitement at the idea of meeting the great FP Jones.

He lets her ramble on, interjecting noises of approval or surprise as appropriate, but his thoughts are on the meeting ahead.

His fingers flex on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the pressure. Jughead loves his dad, but he’s a shitty father. Hearing Betty’s hero-like worship of the man makes him tense because he knows what he’s actually like.

FP Jones was always chasing the next big score, too focused on the prize to get close to his son.

He moved Jughead and his mom from Toledo to Vegas when Jughead was 15, telling them he got a new job. FP played cards and ran jobs while Jughead went to school and Gladys worked at a string of casinos until FP had enough to put down a payment on a nice house in the suburbs. 

After that first big score, FP went up and down, winning and losing on the flip of a coin. It took his mom two years to decide she couldn’t handle the rollercoaster and move back to Toledo, leaving behind a folder of signed divorce papers - and her son.

FP threw himself into the business after that. He played smarter and longer, winning and saving enough to send Jughead to college and, after graduation, give him his first loan to start investing. 

Jughead never knew exactly where that money came from, so he worked on building his own connections in town and investing in ventures he knew would be successful, counting every day and every dollar until he could pay his dad back.

He was in the midst of his second major purchase, an off-Strip restaurant in the upcoming suburbs, when FP called him up asking for help.

FP was in deep, losing money faster than he could make it, and the wrong people were coming calling. Jughead still felt indebted to his dad and decided to help out. It all backfired when word got out that Jughead was paying off FP’s debts and more came out of the woodwork.

When a man with a wicked set of brass knuckles beat Jughead up in a hotel parking garage, almost putting him in the hospital, Jughead decided to forcefully put FP into retirement.

He repaid the most pressing debts and paid off the house, telling FP that this was the repayment of the loan he gave Jughead. At that point, Jughead promised he would never go down the same path as his dad.

Yet here he was, driving out to Red Rock Canyon with a blonde-haired girl bouncing in the front seat who was living the kind of life Jughead had promised himself he would stay away from.

There was still hope on the horizon. FP and Jughead had been rebuilding their relationship since then, with FP going to meetings about gambling addiction and keeping out of trouble. They would call just to catch up, with Jughead updating FP on how the business was going and how his friends were doing.

They had even gone for motorcycle rides in the canyon, taking in the open road and the scenic beauty that so many tourists never saw. 

Seeing those rocks now, Jughead realizes he hasn’t made the drive out to his dad’s in months. He’s a little nervous to see him in the current circumstances, but, looking over at Betty, he thinks the present company will more than make up for it.

She must feel his eyes on her, since she pulls her awe-struck gaze away from the view to look at him. 

“Have you been out to the canyon?” he asks. 

Betty shakes her head. “Been here a year and I still haven’t. I’ve never been particularly outdoorsy, but this makes me want to be.”

She looks longingly out the window, and he frees one hand from where it’s been death-gripping the steering wheel to take hers. Her head turns and her eyes drop to their joined hands. A soft smile crosses her face before she looks back to the passing landscape.

He doesn’t let go until they arrive at the gate keeping FP’s land separate from the canyon around it, and he has to dig in his console to find the remote he hasn’t used in weeks. The gate swings open silently. 

Jughead doesn’t look at Betty as he navigates down the rocky path, but he can hear a short gasp when the rocks part to reveal the house. 

The morning sun reflects off two floors of windowed walls, opening the house up to the landscape below. He can’t see through them, but he knows his dad is on the other side. He can feel the eyes on him from here.

Pulling up the drive and stopping in front of the garage, Jughead puts the car into park and pauses to breathe for a moment. Only Betty’s hand on his shoulder keeps him from turning the car back on and driving back to his condo.

They share a look, Betty offering him a comforting smile, before he unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out to open her door.

She wraps a steady arm around his waist as he leads her to the door. He lets his arm rest around her shoulders, tightening it when he rings the bell and leaning into her for support. 

The door swings open and Jughead looks up, locking eyes with FP.

“Jughead. You’re here,” FP says in surprise, almost like he expected him not to show.

“Hey Dad,” he says lowly. Betty looks up at him questioningly, and Jughead lifts his arm from around her. He shocks FP and himself when he reaches out and hugs his dad.

FP pats his back, and Jughead pretends not to hear a small sniffle or see the shine in his eyes as he lets go. He turns to Betty, gesturing her forward to introduce her.

“Betty, this is FP Jones...my dad.”

FP cuts in. “Technically FP Jones II. Jughead’s the third,” he says, leaning forward eagerly to take Betty’s hand in his and shake it vigorously. “It’s been a while since I’ve met any of Jughead’s friends, and never one as pretty as you.”

Jughead groans. “Da-ad,” he drags out like he’s a teenager again, and Betty giggles half in embarrassment and half in awe.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jones,” she says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” FP jokes with a wink, and Jughead just rolls his eyes. “Let’s get inside, it’s a hot one today.”

FP leads them in through a spacious entryway to the simply-decorated sitting room. The windows continue on the back of the house to show off the rising mountain, and Betty wanders over to the window to take in the view.

“How’s the house? No issues?” Jughead asks.

“Same as always,” FP says. “Thinking about turning one of the rooms into a guest room, if you’re going to be up here more often.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Jughead lets a beat pass before asking his next question. “Anyone come asking around?”

“All clear.” FP watches Betty as she leaves the window to look around at the pictures lining the walls. “What about you? How are you? How’s the business? And life?”

Jughead hesitates, following his eyes to Betty and understanding the underlying question.  _ Tell me about the girl. _

“We have something a little more important to talk about,” Jughead says firmly.

Hearing the conversation stop, Betty turns to look at them. Jughead smiles softly at her, and she nods back, moving to take a seat on one of the low couches facing the window. Jughead sits next to her and grabs her hand while FP sits across from them.

Betty squeezes Jughead’s hand nervously, and FP sees the tension.

“Just start at the beginning,” he says quietly. Jughead nods in agreement.

“I’m very excited to meet you, Mr. Jones. You’re a legend in our circles,” she starts. FP stops her with a hand.

“It’s FP, please,” he says.

Betty tells him an abbreviated version of her story, and Jughead’s hand tightens around hers as  he listens to it again. The first time, he listened in disbelief. This time, he supports her as she relives the memories. 

“I need to win this game to pay back the loan, or...I don’t know what will happen,” she ends.

FP leans back in his seat, slinging an arm over the back of the couch. He looks between the two of them before locking eyes with Jughead. Jughead nods, affirming that it’s the truth.

“You’ve got yourself in a bit of trouble, kid,” FP states. Jughead’s not sure if he’s talking to him or Betty. “Lucky for you that you have me.”

Betty lets out an audible breath and Jughead wants to join in. He settles for rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand in comfort and a bit in relief.

“I’ve played in those back room games before. There’s usually the same people at the table, and you’re going to be at a disadvantage right away. They all know each other and you’ll be the interloper. Plus, you’ll have to ante up to even get in the door-” FP starts, and Jughead cuts him off.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says firmly. Betty looks up at him questioningly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispers in her ear. A slight shiver goes up her spine, but she nods in agreement.

“The money’s just the start. Like I said, these people all know each other, and they know each other’s tells,” FP continues. “The younger crowd aren’t that bad. Josie McCoy, Kevin Keller, they’re just in it for the game. It’s the others you need to keep an eye on.”

With every word, Jughead can feel Betty leaning in closer, soaking up the knowledge of her idol. His father basks in the attention. Jughead watches him play up his words as he speaks, taking long pauses so Betty is nearly on the edge of her seat.

Jughead has to hold himself back from standing up and screaming. He’s worked hard to keep his dad out of the world that destroyed their family, but now he’s bringing FP back in willingly. 

For Betty, it’s worth it.

He tunes back in just for his father to say a familiar name.

“Penny Peabody is a nasty piece of work. Stay clear of her if you can,” FP says.

Penny Peabody. Her little gang of drug runners and low-level enforcers led to Jughead’s leave of absence with a nasty black eye and a few broken ribs - and FP’s subsequent retirement. 

“She’s not above playing dirty to get what she wants. No, she won’t get her hands dirty, but too many of her opponents have suddenly found themselves hurt or broke for it to be a coincidence,” FP leans heavily on the last word, making his meaning clear with every syllable. 

“You’re coming into the game late, so her gang won’t know enough about you to get you before the game. Once you get past that and you learn her tell, you’ll do fine.”

“Her tell?” Betty asks breathlessly. 

“Her forearm,” FP says in a low voice, like he’s letting Betty in on a secret. “Years ago, she ran with the Blossoms. When she left the gang - on not-great terms - they cut off a tattoo on her forearm. Supposedly it showed her allegiance to them. Every time she bluffs, she glances at her arm. Too quick for most people to notice, unless you know what to look for.”

A sly smile crosses Betty’s face and Jughead tenses, seeing the same look she gave him that first night just before revealing she had fleeced him. She’s excited for this. 

FP sees it too, and gives her a word of caution. 

“Ground rules. Don’t play every hand, and know when to fold,” he reminds her which she tries to brush off.

“I already know the basics,” Betty says with a toss of her hair. 

FP regards her thoughtfully before glancing at Jughead. They share a glance before FP focuses his best “stern father” look on Betty, one he never got to use on Jughead.

“I bet you do, but they’re even more important in this game,” he says. “The tension’s high in there, and you’re already too invested. If you get emotional, that’s the end of it. The second something gets weird, you fold and you get out of there.”

Jughead listens intently and knows right away what he needs to do. He needs to find a way to help Betty through this, whatever that is. He’s not a good enough player to take her place, and she would never let him pay the debt off on his own. 

He needs to talk to FP. Alone.

FP gives Betty a few more notes about the players who might or might not be there before reminding her once again to play smart.

“Even if you win, the money doesn’t mean anything if you’re not around to use it,” he says solemnly.

“Thank you, FP,” Betty says, leaning over the table to grab his hand. “Truly, thank you so much. I owe you one.” 

FP glances between the two of them before smirking. “As long as you keep my son happy, consider us even,” he tells her. Betty blushes and ducks her chin, and he laughs at the response.

“I think you’ve embarrassed Betty enough for one day,” Jughead says, pulling Betty up and putting a hand on her back to lead her out to the car. FP shrugs but the smirk doesn’t leave his face.

Jughead makes it all the way out to the car before he finally looks FP in the eye. It’s over the top of Betty’s head when she impulsively hugs FP, taking all three of them by surprise. 

She climbs in and Jughead shuts the door when FP speaks.

“You want to help her,” FP states, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I’m not letting her go into that snake nest alone,” Jughead says, and FP nods.

“I can get you in, but you can’t distract her.” FP looks over Jughead’s shoulder towards the window Betty sits behind. “This is going to be hard enough for her, and having you there may ruin it, as well as make you a target if things go south.”

“I guess I’m going to have to take that risk,” Jughead tells him.

FP smiles, and Jughead thinks he sees pride in his eyes. “I’ll call you with the details.”

“Thanks Dad,” Jughead says. FP claps him on the shoulder and Jughead offers him a small wave before climbing into the car.

“What was that about?” Betty asks.

“Nothing,” Jughead says, starting the car and backing out, FP still standing in the driveway watching them leave.

Jughead drives to his condo on autopilot, thinking about the conversation with FP, and Betty doesn’t hesitate to follow him in. He goes straight to the bar to pour a glass full of whiskey, and he can feel her eyes on him as he lifts the bottle in silent question. She shakes her head and Jughead takes his glass over the the couch, landing heavily before taking a sip.

Betty perches on the arm of the chair next to him, giving him a moment before she speaks. “So...FP Jones is your dad.”

He simply nods and she lets out a low whistle.

He downs half the drink, then puts the glass down and grabs her hand to drag her out to the balcony. She goes willingly, but her eyes are wide. Jughead takes in the view, watching the traffic flow before he responds.

“His gambling pretty much tore our family apart. Penny Peabody, that woman he was telling you about? He got in bad with her and I almost ended up in the hospital because of it.”

Jughead doesn’t take his eyes from the ground below but he can hear Betty’s sharp intake of breath and feel her hand rest on his shoulder. He wants to lean into it, but he needs to get the rest out.

“I forced him to give it up then, and ever since I’ve been careful about my money, my time - my relationships,” Jughead stutters over the last phrase. 

He finally says it, the thing he’s been holding back since that first night. “I’m starting to feel something for you, something strong, and I don’t want you to have to spend the rest of your life locked away in a house in the middle of the desert like him, or worse.” A million situations flash through his mind, each one worse than the last. 

“I want to come to the game. For protection. FP can get me-” he starts and she’s saying no, absolutely not, but he just says one word.

“Please,” he whispers, hoping she can see the fear and hope and love in his eyes.

Her green eyes meet his blue ones and she pauses, before the word he wants to hear comes tumbling out. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. This is way overdue! Sorry about that. Good news is the next chapter's already been written so no month-long delay for the next one. 
> 
> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com) if you want, or just leave a comment. They're good luck charms against involuntary hiatuses.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal thanks goes to [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com), part-time beta and full-time hypewoman. 
> 
> A lot happens here, so see you at the bottom?

The day of the game, Betty finds herself back where this whole process started - Veronica’s house, digging through the outfits Veronica had purchased for that fateful night at the tables.

Bringing in Veronica had actually been Jughead’s idea. In his terms, she knew better than anyone how the right outfit could bring someone down. Veronica had taken his challenge “to find something that would knock everyone’s socks off” to heart and pulled out all the stops. A bottle of champagne was chilling on her dressing table when Betty arrived and racks had been wheeled in to show off the clothes in their best light.

Betty had denied the champagne, wanting to keep a clear head, and didn’t see any difference in the dresses in either light. She let Veronica have her fun, though.

Making it to the end of another rack, Betty sighs. “None of this is what I had in mind,” she tells Veronica.

“It might help if you told me what this was for...Jughead, perhaps?” Veronica questions slyly.

Betty hesitates for a moment, before deciding to tell Veronica the truth.

“Yes and no, V. I haven’t been totally honest with you,” Betty says, sitting heavily on Veronica’s bed. Veronica moves to grab the champagne bottle but Betty shakes her head, so Veronica just takes a seat next to her.

“When we first met and you helped me get all those clients, I never told you what the money was for.” Betty pauses. “I have people back home in Riverdale that are counting on me - to get that money, to help them survive,” she says, feeling her eyes fill with tears at the thought of Fred and Archie. Veronica silently hands her a tissue box.

“Something happened and the money from Lodge and the people you set me up with wasn’t enough. I had to find it another way...I went to the Blossoms, this family in town-”

“Wait, as in Cheryl Blossom?” Veronica cuts in.

Betty nods in surprise. “You know her?”

Veronica huffs and crosses her arms. “Only the most shady bitch on this side of the Mississippi. We went to high school together. Her brother was a dick and almost got kicked out of school for making a playbook of the girls in our graduating class, but they threw enough money at it and it went away. I heard they got into some stuff but I didn’t think they were that evil.”

Betty laughs. “‘Some stuff’ is an understatement. They’re loan sharks now, at least, that’s how I know them. Her brother Jason gave me a loan, and now they’re coming to collect.”

“How can I help? Anything to take that bitch down,” Veronica says. She doesn’t pry into the situation in Riverdale, and Betty’s grateful.

“I’m going to win the money back. Tonight, if I’m lucky. This game Jughead and I are going to pays enough to clear my debt with the Blossoms, and I’m going with a look-so-good-no-one-can-pay-attention-to-their-cards strategy, which is where you come in,” Betty reminds her.

“Jughead’s going with you? Interesting…” Veronica trails off, tapping her bottom lip with a manicured finger in contemplation. “How do you feel about that?”

“Happy and a little nervous,” Betty says. “He’s never seen me in full action. That first night I was going easy, and I don’t know how he’ll feel about me after this.”

“I think he might know a little more about what he’s getting into than he lets on,” Veronica says. “Remember his dad was in deep with this world.”

Veronica hesitates, getting up to pull a dress off the rack and squaring her shoulders before turning back to face Betty. “If I know Jughead, he’s probably more nervous about something happening to you than anything else. As long as you make it out of there safe and sound, he’ll be fine with whatever happens.”

With that, Veronica shoves the dress into Betty’s hands and pushes her into the closet to change. One pair of shoes, some jewelry and a Veronica Lodge-approved hairstyle later, Betty leaves with a promise to call after the game, no matter what time.

Betty doesn’t even think to go to her apartment, instead going straight to Jughead’s condo. More often than not over the last few weeks, she’s found herself staying there after a long evening practicing at the tables or at Jughead’s poker table with a rotating cast of FP’s more above-board acquaintances.

They hadn’t really talked about it, but after the first week Betty’s things had worked their way into the condo. Her clothes now fill the drawers and hangers Jughead had emptied for her, and her toothbrush sits next to his in a cup on the bathroom counter.

It’s nice, having someone to come home to. She only hopes it will last.

She goes straight to the bathroom when she arrives, knowing it will take at least an hour to settle her nerves long enough to do her makeup.

Careful not to mess up the delicate updo Veronica has created, she changes into Jughead’s soft bathrobe. Betty turns on some quiet music and gets to work.

An hour or so later, she hears Jughead come in and dig around in the closet, but he leaves a few minutes later without even poking his head in. She’s a tiny bit glad, knowing she needs to focus on the night ahead.

She hears the guest bathroom shower turn on, and her mind lingers on the thought of the running water dripping down Jughead’s chest, how easy it would be to slip down the hall and sneak in behind him...

 _Focus_ , she tells herself, forcing her mind back to thinking about the other players’ tells. _Save that for after the game._

The thought surprises her. They’ve been so fixated on the game and the players that they’ve never talked about what happens after, and what that means for them. Betty doesn’t even know what it means for her.

Does she go back to Riverdale, help Archie run the business, and take care of Fred? Stay here in Vegas with Jughead, keep her job with Lodge, and try to be normal?

How does she move on after reaching the one goal that’s kept her grounded for nearly a year?

Can she move on?

Betty shakes her head and releases the intrusive thought. None of it matters if she loses and can’t pay the Blossoms back. With that reminder, she goes back to finishing her eye makeup and reciting FP’s rules in her head.

Jughead is anxiously pacing the living room when she finally leaves the bedroom, dressed and ready for the night ahead. He’s switching between toying with his cufflinks and resting his hands on his hips, revealing those black suspenders he wore the night they met.

She drops her shoes on the floor, the click of the heels meeting marble catching his attention. His eyes darken as he takes her in.

She wasn’t sure about the dress when Veronica had forced it into her arms. It looked too ballerina pink perfection for a poker game, but the daring slit up the side of the skirt and deep V neckline obviously work for Jughead. The look in his eyes has her sending a silent thank you to Veronica.

She slips back into the mindset of the confident, sexy Betty Cooper like an old favorite sweater and struts over to him, wiping a pale, polished fingertip over the corner of his mouth.

“You’re drooling,” she teases.

“Can you blame me?” Jughead asks. “You look...indescribable.”

“Better than all the girls at your clubs?” she says, leaning in to rest her hands on his chest and raise up on her toes.

“A thousand times better,” he says lowly, leaning to brush her nose with his. The distance between them is shrinking quickly, their lips about to meet, when Jughead’s phone rings shrilly.

They’re abruptly brought back to earth. Betty rolls back on her heels and Jughead reaches into his suit pocket to pull out his phone, running his other hand soothingly down her arm.

“Car’s here,” he tells her after checking the text message. She nods and grabs her shoes, and follows him to the elevator.

They make it down to the parking garage and Betty pauses in the elevator lobby. Jughead turns back to see what’s keeping her.

“Ready?” he asks, and Betty’s tempted to turn around and ride the elevator right back up to safety. Then she looks into his eyes and sees nothing but calm, and she knows in that moment that she trusts him, that he’ll be there, no matter what happens.

“Let’s go,” she says, letting him lead her to the car.

A short ride later, they get dropped off at a bar in the downtown area, far enough off the main drive for the tourists to wander in but not so far that a line of high-priced cars draws too much attention. Jughead’s arm wraps around Betty’s waist, keeping her steady as they follow another well-dressed couple down a dark hallway to the main room.

The space is filling quickly, with couples mingling, servers passing out drinks, and a dealer at the table shuffling cards. Betty sees a few faces she recognizes but none of the Blossoms, thank goodness. She doesn’t think she could take that pressure tonight. Jughead moves them towards the bar and orders himself a whiskey, already knowing that Betty’s not drinking.

They’ve timed their arrival perfectly. A man in a tux calls the room to attention and asks the players to take their seats just as Jughead’s drink is delivered.

His fingers tighten around her waist when she turns to face him.

“That’s my cue,” Betty says. She lifts her hand to palm Jughead’s cheek at the same time she raises up to reach his lips. She kisses him softly, drawing away once his hand at her waist has relaxed and released some of the tension he’s been holding.

“Dad told me to remind you to remember the rules,” he says, and Betty rolls her eyes. “Please be safe,” he continues.

Betty nods slightly, brushing her thumb against his cheekbone. The host calls again and she steps back, straightening Jughead’s tie, giving herself one last chance to touch him before going to take her place at the table.

The dealer starts going over the rules, but Betty tunes him out in favor of taking in her opponents. She recognizes Kevin Keller, a popular face in some of the high roller rooms around the Strip, but everyone else is a stranger.

One blonde woman catches her attention for where her eyes are directed. The woman is looking straight at Jughead, a sneer on her face, and her right hand comes up to scratch a spot on her forearm.

This must be Penny Peabody.

Betty looks over to Jughead. He’s only got eyes for her, and he nods reassuringly. He knows Penny’s there and he’s got it handled, and Betty relaxes at that one little movement.

She turns her eyes back to the table. The dealer lays out the cards and she focuses on her hand, planning her first move.

A respectable hand starts the first game off well, and from then on the routine takes over.

Place a bet.

Watch for tells.

Flip a card.

Bet again.

Watch again.

Flip again.

The only things separating this game from her usual nights at the tables are the incredible stakes riding on the outcome. She’s hyperfocused on every face, every twitch, every hand of cards thrown down, but the glances at Jughead she allows herself to take every few hands keep her settled.

He’s the picture of ease, leaning against a wall with his tie loose and a whiskey in his hand. He toasts her once, a wink the next time, and she giggles after the next look shows him rolling his eyes at the back of the dealer’s head.

It helps keep her mind clear, keeping her from getting so into the game that she forgets the rules FP has given her. She reminds herself to take breaths, drink water, glance around the room and make sure nothing feels weird.

Two hours later, she’s about $5,000 away from paying off her debt when the host returns and calls for a break. Immediately, she is up from her chair and moving towards Jughead. He offers her the water bottle in his hands and she takes it gratefully, taking a large gulp as he rests his hand between her shoulder blades.

His thumb goes to a spot in her shoulder, sore from a night of leaning over the table, and she sighs in relief.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

She smiles up at him, a true, free smile. ‘I’m so close, Jug,” she tells him, and his hand slides up so his thumb can rub the tension from the back of her neck.

He leans in, and speaks into her ear softly. “Then let’s go. You can make that at the tables, and this room,” he pauses, glancing around, “the people are getting pretty touchy. Something doesn’t feel right.”

She’s not so sure. That last win is in her reach, a few more hands, and that’s the end of it. She humors him though, glancing around the room.

The players look normal, talking with their friends and the hangers-on that came with them. Nothing seems out of place but...there.

In the corner, Penny Peabody is furiously typing on her phone, glancing around furtively before returning to her message. She looks up again, and Betty follows her eyes to the other corner, where a man in an ill-fitting suit is staring pointedly at his watch.

“He’s been doing that since you hit thirty thousand,” Jughead says into her ear. “I don’t know what it is, but anything involving Penny won’t end well.”

Betty looks back at Penny, who now has a satisfied smile on her face. The phone gets tucked away in her bag and she walks to the bar, settling herself on a stool and ordering a drink.

Penny stays firmly in her gaze as Jughead continues his speech. “We can leave right now and go to a casino. Whichever one you want. Anything to get out of here,” he says.

“Give me two more hands, and then we’ll go,” Betty tells him. The host stands and calls the players back to the table, and she leans up to press a kiss against his cheek.

“Two more hands,” she tosses over her shoulder, giving the room one last scan.

Her eyes land on the man in the corner - now looking directly at her.

He looks away quickly, but Betty can’t escape the involuntary chill that runs up her spine because of his piercing gaze.

She keeps moving towards the table but her eyes don’t leave his corner, even as she takes her seat. It’s only when he stops checking his watch and he heads for the door that she allows herself to relax even the slightest bit.

Her anxiety apparently passes on to Jughead, her glance meeting his as the man walks past him. Jughead’s eyes are fixed on Betty, looking two seconds away from grabbing her arm and dragging her out the door. He holds himself tight though, fingers clenching around the water bottle still in his hand.

She looks back at the stranger, who locks eyes with Penny before continuing towards the door, and tries to push the fear out of her mind. Maybe he told his wife or girlfriend he’d be home at a certain time, or he’s got some kind of deadline.

Betty looks over at Jughead and sees the tension in his face, his eyes narrowed as the man walks out the door without looking back.

“Miss Cooper?”

The dealer’s voice snaps her back into the game. Everyone around the table is looking at her, waiting for her move. A sneer crosses Penny’s face when Betty meets her eyes.

She doesn’t see the cards in her hand when she lifts them to make her bet. All she can see are Jughead’s eyes, willing her to walk away. FP’s voice plays on repeat in her head. _The second something gets weird, you fold and you get out of there._

But it’s only $5,000 more until she’s free.

But it’s only two more hands.

But with one look at Jughead, she can see his fear for her, his love for her, and she knows then that she feels the same. That she’ll trust him with her life. That no matter what happens, she wants to stay here, with him. With the man she loves.

She knows what she needs to do.

The chair screeches across the floor as she stands, throwing down the cards.

“I’m done.”

Twelve gawking faces stare back at her as the dealer cashes her out. Penny especially has a nasty look on her face before her eyes dart to the door. Whatever she’s waiting for, Betty’s not sticking around to see it.

The envelope is heavy in her hand, but her heart is lighter than air as she walks to the exit. Jughead joins her at the door, whispering in her ear that the car is waiting outside.

As the door swings open, she sends one look back at the table, taking in the moment before closing this chapter of her life for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought in a comment or on [Tumblr.](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost to the end folks! Just an epilogue left.
> 
> I never would have made it this far without [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com/). Love ya, girl.

Jughead tells the driver to go back to the condo. Betty probably wants to change, and he’d love to stash that envelope full of cash somewhere safe before they head back out. 

She leans into him on the ride, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his leg. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leans back in his seat to watch the lights flash by. 

The driver drops them off in the garage and Jughead keeps his arm around Betty as they walk to the elevator, both of them moving a little slower now that the adrenaline from the night has worn off. 

Jughead doesn’t even flip on the lights when they enter, going straight for the couch and flopping down on the leather. Betty follows and swings her feet into Jughead’s lap, and he laughs at the silent demand to help take off her strappy heels. 

He works the small buckles loose and rubs the red outlines of the straps, leaving Betty moaning softly. Her head lolls back onto the arm of the couch as he continues working her sore feet.

“I hate to ask this,” Jughead starts, “but where do you want to go to win the rest?”

She hesitates, thinking it over. He keeps his focus on his hands, holding himself back from offering up his help one more time. Betty is fiercely independent, that much he’s learned, and the wrong move could be a huge setback.

With a fresh burst of energy, Betty sits straight up, swinging her feet onto the ground and standing before grabbing Jughead’s hand to pull him up.

“Let’s worry about that in the morning,” she whispers, pulling him back towards the bedroom. 

“Whatever shall we do for the rest of the night?” he teases, and she pushes his suit jacket off his shoulders before undoing his tie. 

“Whatever we want,” she says. She spins around, and his fingers work the zipper at her back free, the dress dropping to the ground in a puddle. 

His mouth waters at the sight of her in a strapless bra and thong, his hands moving quickly to undo his cufflinks and toss them aside before unbuttoning his shirt. 

Betty casts a sultry gaze over her shoulder at him, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Jughead freezes for a minute, but keeps on removing clothing until he’s in his boxers. 

She’s still in the bathroom when he finishes, so he finds the cufflinks again to store them properly in the box. Shirt, suit jacket and pants go in a bag for the dry cleaner, and tie gets rolled back up and put into the drawer. Jughead turns down the bedding and climbs in, deciding to close his eyes for just a minute...

He’s dead to the world by the time Betty climbs in next to him, makeup free and dressed in his old white t-shirt. 

His phone buzzing on the nightstand wakes him as the sun fades into the room. A little too much whiskey during the game means his first look is a squint into the early morning sunshine. He takes a few seconds to blink before opening his eyes fully.

Betty’s hair is illuminated in the beams of light, her face peaceful in sleep. Jughead smiles at the strand of hair blowing off her forehead as she breathes, and he frees a hand from the blankets to push it back from her face. 

He could get used to this.

His phone stops buzzing for a beat then picks right back up again, so he figures he should probably answer it. Rolling over, he gropes around the nightstand for a second before his fingers catch the corner. 

A quick glance at the screen shows FP’s caller ID picture, one he took himself of FP leaned up against his bike in the canyon. Jughead swipes to answer.

“Hello?” he mumbles into the phone, voice still gravelly.

“Oh thank God,” is all that comes over the line before FP launches into a tirade about arrests and Penny and bail. Jughead processes only a few words before he sits straight up and forces him to slow down.

“Wait Dad, I can barely understand you. Can you start over?” Jughead asks, and FP takes a deep breath before starting again.

“You didn’t call when you got back, so I got worried. I called a few people and they said the game got busted by the cops. Where were you? Are you okay?” FP rushes through.

“We’re fine, we just came back and passed out. Cops? How did they even find out?” Jughead asks, a hand coming up to tug at his hair, the pain keeping him focused.

“That snake, Penny Peabody. She gave the whole thing up on the promise of immunity if she brought in the big players, the guys planning the game. They wanted to see who they could get before they promised her anything though, so it turns out no one they needed was there and they picked up her whole gang...”

FP drones on in the background when Jughead’s attention turns to Betty, her eyes sliding open a bit. The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile before she takes in his expression. He watches as her eyes open fully and she props herself up next to him on the headboard, reaching up to free his hand from his hair. 

“We’re fine Dad, I told you,” Jughead says, cutting him off in the middle of a gleeful sentence about Penny and half her gang spending the night in county lockup. “We got out just in time. Betty just got up, can I call you back?”

“Say no more. I’m - I’m glad you’re safe, boy.” With that, FP hangs up and Jughead puts his phone back on the nightstand. Betty leans in to brush a kiss against his lips and he pulls her closer, lingering for a moment. 

“Hi,” she whispers when he moves away. 

“Good morning,” he responds, and they share a smile. He stares at her for a second, taking her in, until she tilts her head in silent question about the tail end of the phone call.

“The game got broken up by the cops. Penny Peabody set up some kind of deal, but it backfired. Apparently she and her gang were hoping for immunity but got the night in jail instead,” he tells her, and her eyes widen in shock before she climbs out of bed.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jughead asks, reaching to grab her waist, but she nimbly escapes his hands. 

“I need to make sure no one said anything about us being there,” she tosses over her shoulder before going into the bathroom, probably looking for her phone. 

Speaking of…

Jughead picks his phone up to scroll through the few texts he got overnight in addition to the thirteen missed calls from FP. He’s not too worried about being recognized. If Penny Peabody’s the one doing the talking, no one would trust her without hard proof - and even then it would be questionable.

He lays back down, lifting the phone over his face as he flips through the notifications. Texts from Toni and Fangs, some ESPN alerts about a baseball game, an email from the manager at Omnia confirming deliveries for the week. 

A heavy weight lands on his knees and he moves the phone out of his face, finding Betty in his lap, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Wha-” is all he manages to get out before her lips meet his. His hand fists the hair at back of her neck to pull her closer, but she pushes gently on his shoulders. 

He goes to back away but she keeps close, leaning in to rest her forehead against his.

“Thank you,” she says softly, and kisses him again. “Thank you for making me think past the money, and getting me out of there, and helping me. With everything.”

“Of course,” he says. “Everything okay? Anyone hear anything?”

She shakes her head and climbs off to snuggle up under the blankets next to him. He rubs a hand up her back, feeling her smooth skin under his shirt.

He’s about to close his eyes and go back to sleep when she speaks again.

“I never asked you...how are you feeling about...all of this?” she says into his chest, and his hand stills on her back as he thinks it over. 

“Glad we got out of there, for one. A little vindictive over Penny. And -” he pauses.

“And?” Betty asks.

“Nervous,” he says. “What if someone did see you? What if the Blossoms come up with some way to hold you back? What if...they take it and you go back to Riverdale?” 

The last sentence hangs in the air. Jughead instantly starts questioning the decision to lay all his cards on the table until Betty boosts herself up on her elbow to look him in the eye.

“What are you saying, Jughead?” she asks, her eyes soft. 

“I’m saying I don’t want you to leave. I’m saying I want you to be safe and happy here. I’m saying I want you to move in with me so I can wake up with you every morning. I told you I’m starting to feel something strong, and now I’m sure. I’m saying that I love you.” 

He can’t look away from her face as the emotions flicker through her eyes, watching for a response. She takes him by surprise when her head ducks down to place a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you too, Jughead.”

She lets out a squeal when he wraps his arms fully around her waist, pulling her on top of him to kiss her hard.

“God, Betty, this is - you have no idea-” he stutters out between breathless kisses. “Please say it again.”

Betty giggles and obliges. “I love you,” she says, before leaning down to rest her forehead against his. “I’ll stay here. With you.”

With that, she snuggles down into his chest and presses a kiss over his heart. His hand comes up to hold her head close, and he breathes in the smell of her hair. 

They lay like that for a while, long enough that Jughead feels himself falling back asleep, until Betty lifts her head and looks out the window. Letting out a sigh, she slides out from under his arm and stands to stretch her arms over her head. 

Jughead sees a small flash of pink lace under the shirt and his breath catches in his throat. Grabbing for Betty’s hand, he laces their fingers together and pulls her back down to the bed.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” he teases as Betty laughs. 

“Someone’s gotta go make that extra five grand, and I want to go before it gets too crowded with tourists,” she says, trying again to walk to the bathroom.

He sits up straight and tugs, spinning Betty to face him.

“I love you, so please let me help,” he says. “I don’t know if the cops knew you were there or recognized you, and we don’t know if this is going to affect you yet.” He pauses and waits for her to look at him. “Please let me give you the money,” he breathes.

He can see the hesitation in her eyes but he keeps his mouth shut, letting her work through it alone. 

She shakes her fingers free and turns away, but must think better of it because she’s back in front of him a minute later.  

“You have to let me pay you back,” she starts, and he nods quickly. She holds up a hand to stop him. “And if I move in here, I’m chipping in for rent and groceries and all that.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her the condo’s paid off, just nodding in response. He knows how big of a struggle this must be for her, letting someone else help, and he wants to encourage it.

She eyes him for a second, and then nods again. “Okay then. Let’s get this over with.”

A few hours later and many soft touches and secret smiles later, they’re dressed and ready to go. Jughead calls a car as Betty calls Jason Blossom to set up a meeting. 

Getting five thousand in cash was easier than he expected. After a quick stop at the bank, they’re on their way to the drop site, an office complex near the freeway that’s nearly deserted on the Sunday morning. 

The driver pulls into a parking spot across the lot from the silver Mercedes. Jughead sits in the back seat with the partition rolled up, glancing over at Betty who appears to be mentally preparing herself for a fight.

She stares straight ahead as she starts to speak. 

“Can you please stay in the car for this? I’m so close to getting out and don’t want you to get dragged into it at the last minute,” she says.

“Of course, Betty. I trust you. I’m watching for any funny business though,” he tells her.

Nodding, she leans over and picks up the duffle bag at her feet. She’s about to open the door when he pulls her back to kiss her once more. 

She smiles against his mouth before pushing open the door and walking to the Mercedes. Jughead watches as Jason Blossom unfolds his body from the front seat of the car, reaching out to shake Betty’s hand.

He feels his fists clench unconsciously and has to force himself to free them.

Betty hands over the duffle bag and Jason opens the trunk to put it inside. With a slam that’s audible even to Jughead, he pushes it shut and turns to speak to Betty again. They exchange a few words before she finally, finally turns and walks back to the car.

Jughead’s there to open the door for her and Betty slides in, letting out a deep breath.

“Thank God that’s over,” she breathes.

“What did you talk about? At the end there?” he asks, and she turns away to buckle her seatbelt. She lingers for a second before she mumbles something into her shoulder. 

Jughead stares her down as she looks back towards the front. It’s only when she realizes he’s not going to tell the driver to go until she speaks that she relents. 

“He asked me to handle a job,” she murmurs, before turning to look Jughead in the eye. “I turned him down,” she says. “I think I’m done with the business for a while. Maybe for good.”

Jughead can’t restrain himself. He pulls her in close, burying his face into her neck. 

“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he breathes, before calling out to the driver and telling him to take them back. Betty stays cuddled up to him, his hand gliding slowly up and down her back as they watch the parking lot disappear in the distance. 

“It’ll be nice to actually have a life for once,” Betty says suddenly when they’ve gotten back onto the Strip, the crowds just starting to make their final appearance for the weekend before taking their flights back home. “Maybe I’ll get back to Riverdale to visit Fred and Archie.”

Jughead thinks to himself that he’s not going to let her out of his sight for a while, but Betty surprises him.

“Or maybe they should come here,” she says. She continues matter-of-factly, “I know they’ll love you when they meet you.”

He pulls her closer at the thought of meeting them, the people Betty loves so much that she moved across the country and changed her life completely to help them. He feels a sudden thankfulness for these two strangers, for the family Betty had built for herself. If it wasn’t for them, he would never have met Betty, and that would have been a tragedy. 

“If they love you as much as I do, then I’m sure we’ll get along great,” Jughead responds.

She offers him a soft smile, and their private moment is only interrupted by the driver announcing their arrival into the garage. Betty slowly untangles herself from his arms to dig her phone out of her pocket and unbuckle her seatbelt.

Leaving the car, he pulls her back to him for the elevator ride. She tucks her head into his chest and breathes in, and he stands firm and tall, letting her take comfort in him.

Once they make it to his floor, he unlocks the door and lets Betty in, before following her to the kitchen. She fills a glass of water and downs the whole thing, glancing at her phone again before speaking.

“I suppose I should call Veronica,” she sighs, “Tell her that it’s all over.”

Jughead rubs her shoulder in comfort before responding.

“Just because you’ve paid off the loan doesn’t mean everything has to change,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “It only means you don’t have this hanging over your head anymore.”

His words must help because her shoulders lift slightly. “You’re right,” she says. “I want to let her know I’m grateful for her help...and that I’m sticking around for a while.”

Jughead smiles proudly. “Let’s celebrate then. Invite her and Pea to dinner tonight, my treat. And afterwards?” He pauses, taking a breath. “We’re moving you out of that apartment and in here.”

Her grin could light up the thousands of neon bulbs on the Strip. She kisses him firmly, tossing him a wink when she pulls up Veronica’s contact and heads out to the balcony.

He watches her talk animatedly on the phone for a few minutes before deciding to make a call of his own. 

Entering his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him. Not that he doesn’t want Betty to hear the call he’s about to make, but if it goes the way he thinks it will, he will be crying, and he doesn’t want Betty to interrupt her call to care for him.

He picks up the phone and dials the familiar number. FP picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey Jug, what’s up?” he asks, and Jughead can’t hold back a tear, just now realizing how close they came to danger.

He sniffs, trying to regulate his breathing so the emotion doesn’t show through in his voice. “Are you free for dinner tonight, Dad?”

FP stutters, apparently not expecting that. “Uh - sure, is something up? Do you need something?”

“Can’t I spend some time with my dad?” Jughead asks, the tears falling freely now. “You’ve done so much for me - and for Betty - over the past few weeks, and I’ve seen how hard you’re trying. I want to try again,” he breathes.

“Of course...son,” FP chokes out. “Whatever you want.” 

Jughead smiles. “I’ll text you a time and place?”

“Sounds good.” FP stops, and then rushes it out. “I love you, Jug.”

“Love you too, Dad,” Jughead whispers, before hanging up the phone.

A soft knock comes through the wood and Betty is pushing open the door, poking her head in to see what’s happening. Her look of joy turns to shock when she looks at Jughead, probably with red eyes and wet cheeks. 

She doesn’t say a word, just sits at his side and wraps her arms around him, giving him time to think and calm himself before he speaks.

“I invited my dad to dinner,” he tells her, and stops there. She nods and leans her head into his shoulder. 

“Are Veronica and Sweet Pea free?” he asks, wanting to move on from the conversation with FP. 

“They’re looking forward to it,” Betty says. “Sweet Pea wants to go to some Italian place you apparently own? Out in Summerlin?”

Jughead laughs at the confused look on her face. “I know what he’s talking about. What do you say we invite Toni and Fangs too, make it a real party?”

“Let’s do it,” she says with a grin. Jughead smiles with her and pulls out his phone to start texting.

Two hours later, they’re set in a backroom, bottles of wine littering the table and laughter filling the air. Jughead has his arm swung around the back of Betty’s chair as he watches his family and friends chat and laugh. 

Toni and Betty are trading tips on finding hot tables, FP throwing in his expertise every so often. Fangs is telling Veronica a long, drawn-out story about one time Sweet Pea managed to gamble away an entire paycheck, and Sweet Pea is trying to speak over him to keep Veronica from hearing the story. 

He looks around the room, and he realizes just how lucky he is to be here.

Betty turns then to see why he’s not taking part in the conversation, and he can’t help it. He  leans in and kisses her, a contented smile on his lips as the conversation continues around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! (Here or on [Tumblr.](http://jordansconnor.tumblr.com/))


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! See you at the end. 
> 
> If you're interested in some visuals, [here](https://www.zillow.com/homes/for_sale/Las-Vegas-NV/house,condo,apartment_duplex,mobile,townhouse_type/66826986_zpid/18959_rid/globalrelevanceex_sort/36.130362,-115.335642,36.11972,-115.351092_rect/15_zm/0_mmm/) is the house they visit.

Even two years later, it doesn’t get any easier.

Spending every day in a casino, walking among the same tables she used to play at, has Betty on edge. She imagines this is what it must be like to be an alcoholic. Constantly wondering if this moment is the one where she’ll slip up and go back to her old ways -

“Betty?” Veronica asks, a hand on her shoulder snapping her back into the moment and causing her to jump.

“Sorry!” she starts to apologize and Betty waves her off.

“No worries, just got caught up for a second I guess,” Betty says. “What did you want to meet for?”

Veronica looks around, realizing their location, and gestures for Betty to follow her to the back of the house. 

In the years since their meeting, Betty has worked her way up the ranks at Lodge Industries. As Veronica’s right hand woman, no two days are ever the same.

Betty loves it. The business lunches with high rollers, fabulous trips to new locations, and tickets to the best shows and concerts in town give her the same thrill that playing the tables once did.

Like now. She can feel her pulse picking up with every step they take towards the conference room. 

Veronica’s big fancy office is in a building on the other side of town, but on days like today they set up laptops in whatever property they’re working out of and spend most of the day walking the casino floor. Betty doesn’t get the chance to take her seat before Veronica is pushing a black folder across the table.

She flips it open and sees a printout of a map. Veronica has helpfully marked a big red X on a spot near the middle, her fine handwriting scripting the address under the map.

“What’s this?” Betty asks, checking out the other pages in the document. A real estate listing for the land, a photocopy of a realtor’s business card, and a slip with a gate code.

“A lead I want you to check out,” Veronica says, kicking her heeled feet up onto the table. “An old friend sent this my way, thought I might be interested. I figured you could go without me for this one.”

“You sure?” Betty might be Veronica’s right hand, but she’s never gone out to sites alone before. Veronica just nods.

Betty closes up her laptop and packs it away. She picks up the folder to punch the address into her GPS before waving a goodbye to Veronica, already on the phone and onto the next.

The calming voice of the Google Maps directions keeps her company as she makes the twenty minute drive to Summerlin, the master planned community west of the Strip. Asian restaurants and auto body shops turn into fancy cafes and designer homes.

The houses only get nicer with each turn the voice directs her to take, and she starts to question Veronica’s judgement. She’s learned a bit about their clients, usually out-of-town visitors with big wallets, and none of them would come out to the suburbs for their entertainment. The deeper into the residential area she gets, the wilder her ideas become.

She stops at the guard house to a gated neighborhood, providing her name and getting a visitor tag for her car in return. The GPS leads her further into the community until she gets stopped by another gate.

Digging through the folder for the gate code, she punches in the numbers. The gate slowly swings open, revealing a row of manicured homes, each bigger than the last. 

Slowly, she drives down the road, letting the GPS lead her. _You have arrived at your destination_ , it announces as she pulls to a stop.

The house has a For Sale sign in the front yard, but that’s all she can really see from the cul-de-sac. It’s at the end of the road, a vacant lot next door offering a straight view to the hills in the north. 

She looks around the quiet neighborhood, wondering again what the hell Veronica could have been thinking.

She’s not going to figure it out hanging around out here though. She shuts the car off and climbs out, striding with purpose to the front door.

It opens easily with a push of her hand. The interior entry is beautiful, if a little cold, dark wood floors leading to gray stone walls blocking the rest of the house from view. 

“Hello?” she calls out, poking her head down hallways as she tries to take the lay of the land. “Anyone home?” she tries again. 

“In here,” a voice calls, and she stumbles into the kitchen. 

“Jug,” she breathes, a smile lighting up her face. He looks tired but happy, his suit wrinkled from the flight he must have just gotten off of, and a bouquet of roses in his hand. 

“I missed you,” he says, rounding the counter to swing her up into his arms. The roses get left on the marble as he kisses her soundly, the weeks away wearing on them both.

“Me too,” she says into his lips, pulling away to see his smile. “How was London? Did the opening go well?”

“Omnia London is well on its way to becoming the number one nightlife spot in the city,” he seems to quote, setting her back down onto her feet. “There’s already a buyer interested too.” 

“No more long trips away?” she asks, and he nods.

“Maybe a trip for both of us to sign the papers and celebrate. I know how much you loved it,” he teases, “specifically one suite at Claridge’s-”

She shakes her head, her nose wrinkling as she giggles. “When you give me a bathtub that looks out to Hyde Park, of course I’m going to spend most of my vacation there. I don’t seem to recall you complaining about it then…”

He had loved it, in fact. The only one unhappy with the time Betty spent in the tub was the poor housekeeper who had to come clean up the bathroom after Jughead decided to join her and got a little frisky.

“You caught me,” he says with a grin. “Wait until you see the tub upstairs though. It puts that one to shame.” Taking her hand, he pulls her through the rooms, pointing out features as he goes.

“There’s seven bedrooms, each with a full bathroom, a movie theater,” he says, gesturing to the door they pass, “an indoor gym, full wine cellar, and a huge backyard. Great view of the mountains too,” he tells her as they come to a stop in front of an enormous window.

She pauses for a minute to take in the view, Jughead practically bouncing next to her. She sneaks a look at him and sees his fingers tapping at his hip, his eyes darting left and right, his chin nodding to a beat inside his head.

“Jug? Are you okay?” she asks softly, and he stops moving for a second. Looking down at her, a soft smile crosses his face.

“I’ve had my eye on this place for so long. I’m excited you’re finally getting to see it,” he says. He takes her hand again and leads her out a side door to a covered seating area. Sitting on the couch, he pulls her down next to him, relaxing back into the cushion.

“This house is closer to my dad’s, an easy commute for both of us, and the space,” he trails off. “There’s a lot of space to raise a family.” 

“Why are we here?” Betty finally asks the question that’s been on her mind.

Jughead lifts his arm in invitation, and she snuggles up into his chest. He takes a few deep breaths before he rests his head on top of hers and relaxes into her.

“I want to give you the home you never got to have with your parents, whether that’s here or in Riverdale or in Antarctica. I think this house could be it,” he says into her hair, and Betty can’t breathe.

She sits straight up, Jughead’s arm falling to his side. “Listen, Jughead. I don’t need a fancy house like this. We could live in a box and I would still be happy.”

She leans back into him, planting her chin on his shoulder to look into his eyes. “I just need you, because you are my home.” 

Jughead exhales, a long, slow sigh, before leaning in to press a kiss on her forehead. “And you’re mine, Betty.” She can feel him start to move again, his fingers dancing on her thigh, before he jumps up from the couch.

“Let’s make it official,” he says, his face lighting up with a gigantic grin.

He grabs her hand and pulls her up from the couch, her shriek of laughter and surprise fading when he drops to one knee in front of her.

“Oh my god,” she breathes as he roots around in his pocket.

“I love you, Betty Cooper,” he says, finally freeing the ring. The diamonds sparkle in the afternoon light, one large stone flanked by two smaller ones. “Will you marry me?”

She can’t speak, the emotion closing up her throat and filling her eyes with tears, but her nod and bright smile make her response more than clear.

Jughead grins and rises, taking her hand. “It’s called a past, present and future ring,” he explains, slipping the ring on her finger. “To remember the family you’ve made in Riverdale, and your friends here, and our future together.” 

“I love it, Jug,” she says through the tears. “I love you.”

“So that’s a...yes?” he teases, and she nods excitedly. 

“Yes, yes!” she says, and puts both hands, one now adorned with a ring, on his face to pull him close and kiss him. 

She feels him smile into the kiss and open his mouth to try to deepen it when she remembers where they are and pulls away.

“Just one thing though,” she pauses and tries to say this kindly. “Seven bedrooms? Really, Jug?”

His face falls slightly. “Too much?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. “Maybe in a couple years, if we start working on filling it up,” she whispers in his ear, and holds on tight as he picks her up and carries her deeper into the house to find a more private spot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Where to start.
> 
> This fic has been a long process for me, with a lot of stops and starts. First and most importantly, I wouldn't have been able to finish it without [Addie](http://beanie-betty.tumblr.com)'s incredible beta skills and kind comments on every chapter. Thank you for everything!! 
> 
> To everyone I've ever done writing sprints with or complained about writing with or gushed about this fic with, thank you for listening and inspiring and commiserating. I appreciate all of you. 
> 
> And last but not least, to every one of you who has stuck it out to the end, commented on chapters, and recced this to your friends. You're the real MVPs and I can't thank you enough.


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